


Threads of Silver

by dogwatch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Kylo Ren, Cigarette Smoking, Cigarettes, Dominant Kylo Ren, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Feral Kylo Ren - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Reader, Friends to Enemies, Hux - Freeform, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Likes Cigarettes?, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren Redemption, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren x Reader - Freeform, Kylo smokes, Kylo/reader - Freeform, Kylo/you - Freeform, Original Character(s), Possessive Kylo Ren, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Protective Kylo Ren, Reader-Insert, Seduction to the Dark Side, Slow Burn, Smoking, The Dark Side of the Force (Star Wars), The Force, aggressive kylo ren, feral Kylo, kylo ren slow burn OC, kylo x reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 42,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogwatch/pseuds/dogwatch
Summary: It’s been months since your ship crashed on an uninhabited planet in a vacant corner of the quietest galaxy. You began to lose hope of the slim chance of sending a distress call to a ship passing within range.It turns out, an entire fleet of the First Order happened to intercept your S.O.S.He has found you, and he is not letting you go.“You’re mine to break.”————(Slow burn)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 215





	1. Isolation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you so much for checking out my work! I wanted to create a piece of fiction that fit all of my... ahem *fantasies*. I wanted to write something I'd enjoy reading, and I hope you enjoy it as well! 
> 
> Secondly, this is a slow burn, and the first few chapters are shorter, getting longer as they go. 
> 
> Lastly, comments keep me going. I will regularly update, but always appreciate feedback and constructive criticism! Let me know what you think- I love interacting with readers. :-) Thank you all for the Kudos so far! 
> 
> (Y/N, reader, you, is a female with female genitalia and goes by the pronouns of she/her.)

0400 HOURS

It seemed to rain for months at a time.

In fact, this marked day 28 of solid rain. 

Your previous knowledge of this planetary system led to you expect rain often, here, but Goddamn. This was constant flooding. The planet was NI-X00, aka 'Non Inhabited.' Although the lush rainforests that covered its skin held plenty of valuable resources, no civilization had tarnished its roots. 

The metal of the roof of the ship above roared with the latest storm. You sat in the cockpit, watching the rain fall in droplets down the front of the glass, slicing through the faded greenery of the trees on the other side of the pane. Your ship sat in silence, the back half completely destroyed and in wreckage. 

You ran your fingers along the metal frame next to you, feeling the little tally marks that marked every morning. 

You nearly lost count after the 105th.

You are, (or perhaps a more proper term) were, a scavenger. Tearing pieces from old abandoned ships, cleaning them up, and selling to the highest bidder. The last job you had, you and your partner scored big. It was more than enough to cover you both for a full year- an abandoned resistance ship, nearly completely in tact, hidden away on Jakku. A literal goldmine. 

Those pieces, or whats left of them, now lay in storage containers in the side compartment of your ship. 

You don't remember exactly how the crash happened. Shifting to the side, you grabbed your canteen, taking a quick swig of the icy water. (Thankfully, the lack of habitation led to zero pollution, so the water was particularly refreshing. ) The last thing you remember was the impact of something into the back-half of your ship, plumes of smoke trailing down behind the ship's sudden fall as every warning system went off on in the cockpit. The bright flashing warning lights screaming red into your eyes... the sharp alarm whistles- 

And then that was it. You woke up some time later, thankfully, half conscious a ways from the wreckage. Aside from the aching soreness of a wreck leaking into your bones, you luckily survived and walked away somewhat unscathed. 

A roll of thunder shook the ship slightly, echoing throughout the dead metal. 

Thankfully, you were no stranger to surviving the elements, on a variety of planets. Deserts, sub-zero temperatures, forests, hell, even civilization, you've managed to survive it all. Here, the land was anything but barren. Fresh water was at every turn, and there didn't seem to be any major predatory animals to worry about. You had a plethora of Nuna to hunt and catch, so you haven't necessarily went hungry. There seemed to only be these little bird-like creatures, here. Your taste buds had long since become bored. Fruit grew here, but found to be more trouble than they were worth, as they were only at the very tops of the tree- and you were never a fan of heights. However, since the intense rain began, the little creatures had seemed to go into hiding. You didn't blame them. 

Today, after marking the 301st tally into the metal, you prepared yourself to continue your usual routine. 

Wake up.

Send a distress signal. 

Receive no response.

Hunt. 

Eat.

Pace.

Sleep. 

Like clockwork, you send out your distress signal, praying to the gods for an answer, but knowing damn well no one was out there. You mainly did it at this point to maintain your routine, to have some sort of structure. But you had lost hope a long, long time ago. 

With a heavy sigh, you strapped your blaster to your hip, stretching as you go, and exited the back half of the torn ship and into the rainy forest.

The heavy rain had muffled your ears, and you couldn't hear the incoming response message on the receiver...

______

0600 HOURS

The rain was still constant, and no matter how many times you ventured out into the impending downpour, your body still was yet to grow accustomed to the cold wet heaviness that seeped into your clothes and bones. When you had first arrived, the rain was sparse and far between. The past month must have proved to be the wet season of this land, and boy did the word wet not begin to cover it. 

You stalked, quietly as you could, considering you were knee deep in mushy, muddy water. Your hair had long since plastered to your forehead, cold and wet and dripping into your eyes. Your rain cloak could only protect you for so long. 

Perhaps the creatures are just as sick of the rain as I am, you thought, taking the chance to lean against a large tree offering some shelter from the sideways rain. Typically, these little creatures were out and about, despite the rain. But the forest was oddly quiet and lifeless.

The rain, as if answering your agitation, stalled for a moment. You looked up to see the heavy drops lessen to barely a drizzle. You removed your hood, wringing out your hair and breathing deep. Thank god. 

This wasn't too out of the ordinary- the planet's atmosphere taunted you with breaks from the downpours every now and again, but those little teases had become almost nonexistent over the last month. 

With the break in the rain, you could see farther and hear much better.

There was shuffling to your left. 

You crouched, feeling your stomach rumble for the first time in a while. It had been a few days since a warm meal. 

A waddling Nuna appeared from behind a tree, wading through the flood waters with three others following. It's camouflage nearly made you miss it, but the tiny croaking noises it emitted gave it away. 

Finally. 

A deep breath, and you slowly brought your blaster up into your line of sight. 

Its plump little figure bobbed throughout the water, tilting its head up as to stay as out of the water as possible. It turned, somewhat to the side, giving you a perfect aim. 

You began to release your breath, finger on the trigger-

Suddenly and without warning, its Reptillian head whipped up and suddenly, all three Nuna all took off, startled, splashing. Cursing, you quickly took a hopeful shot, missing just barely, hitting the base of a tree as the creatures disappeared into the mist and undergrowth. 

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." You lowered the blaster with a huff. Were you just getting sloppy? You were sure they hadn't seen you.

It was then you heard the low, mechanic buzzing from overhead- what the Nuna must have heard before it reached your ears. The overcast made it difficult to make out the visuals, but those sounds illicit immediate fear.

There was no mistaking what those sounds were from.

TIE fighters. 

A lot of them.


	2. Arrival

The rain had held off while you began running feverishly back to your wrecked ship, slopping and splashing your way through the muddied flood waters.

The sound of the TIE fighters continued to angrily buzz overhead, along with the deep hum of the large flagship.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

Your mind was racing- should I be excited or terrified? The water weighed you down as you dodged between trees and undergrowth, rushing to get back to your ship. You hadn't heard any ships passing or even coming somewhat close to this planet, your heart was racing with the chance to get back to civilization. 

But The First Order? You didn't work for the resistance, you were just a scavenger. Surely they wouldn't see you as a threat...? 

Your pace slowed, as the clearing which held your wrecked ship came into view. You found yourself at the top of a small cliff, muddied and washed away from the flooding. Over the edge of the tree-line was about a 20 foot drop. You felt somewhat safe at this advantage- you were definitely out of view and a safe distance away, but also close enough to assess their actions. Water flowed in small streams over the side, eating away at the mud, creating small waterfalls that pooled below. You held your breath as the large, stark black flagship landed, dwarfing the remnants of your tiny vessel. Stormtroopers began flooding down the opened ramp like a sea of white. 

You froze and grew pale. 

Something within you said to run. To turn around, to find cover, and hide. 

But another, much stronger pull within you kept you rooted solidly to the ground. 

Instead, you compromised with yourself, crouching down, nearly laying flat, staying low and out of sight. But still keeping your eyes trained on the open mouth of the dark ship.

The Stormtroopers halted in their formation, then began to tear off into groups of four, heading towards the wreckage of your ship... blasters raised. As they approached the ship, they made their way into the back open side, and within a few moments, realized it was not occupied. 

From the distance you were at, you could only hear faint mumbles of instruction and conversation, but figured it was discussion of the ship. You crouched lower, turning your head as two other figures emerged, standing at the end of the ramp, overseeing the organized searching. 

The first was obviously male, a tall, slender frame decked out in First Order high rank garments. Fiery red hair contrasted snowy pale skin, and even from your distance you could see the sharpness of his features. He looked focused, his face pinched up in thought, his hands clasped and folded sharply behind his back. 

The other was incredibly tall, engulfed in all black, dark as night. Broad shoulders, he stood with an heir of authority. Perhaps these were generals? But their attire was different, un-matching. One had higher rank than the other, and instinct told you the larger of the two held that position. You couldn't see his face- a black hood hid his expression. He appeared to be wearing a sort of helmet, but he was anything but a Stormtrooper. Even from the distance, you felt power radiate from him like sound waves. 

You felt the color flush from your skin even more-so, evaluating the danger of the situation that lay in front of you. These First Order soldiers were not here to help you, and you felt foolish for ever believing they might be. You figured that their ships had been picked up on your distress signal, and traced the call to your current location. What would a small ship like yours be of value to them? Are they just going through the galaxy destroying any potential Resistance sympathizers...? 

The rain that had graciously held off began pelting down full blast once more, as sudden as it had stopped. The change in weather did not alter the Stormtroopers, their white suits glistening with the water. They continued to explore the ship, going in and out, retrieving cargo boxes that held ship parts. 

What the hell were they looking for? 

You began to do a mental checklist of the cargo that had survived the crash, to try and pinpoint their reason for searching. Just old ship parts you were going to sell and trade- nothing you could image would be of great concern to The First Order.

The rain fell down heavier, angrier than before. The wind stayed still, but the thunder began rolling in massive waves, the occasional flash of lightning glinting off the metal of the ships below. The Troopers didn't cease their search. One by one, they began carrying various parts back into their flagship. 

The tall figure turned at an angle, observing the Troopers search. He was wearing a black helmet, silver accents glinting in the dull light. He stretched his shoulders, rolling them back and adjusting his neck. He still stood under the ship on the ramp, observing the Stormtroopers, whom were now covered in mud up to their knees, continue to search through cargo boxes. The red haired man stood at his side, seemingly speaking to the taller figure. 

But he didn't seem to be listening. His chest was wide, and even through his clothing you could sense his muscular build. Your breath hitched and you lowered yourself even more so, trying to make yourself invisible. Your stomach rumbled, reminding you of your growing hunger, and the isolation you had been drowning in these past hundred days or so. 

You glanced over to see a group of Stormtroopers fanning out, wading carefully through the slippery mud, expanding their search to the tree-line.

Heading your direction. 

You scooted backwards, retreating farther, into the water-logged brush.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.... They would have to go around the side of the overhang, and circle back up before they'd discover your hiding place. This gave you a wide berth to escape, and you didn't take that for granted, quickly slinking back into the shadows. Fuck it. You figured you just needed to hide away and remain out of sight for a little bit longer- let them search the surrounding area of the ship, and they'd be on their way. 

The pit of your stomach churned in reminder- when they left, you'd be stranded here. Alone. Again. 

When you felt you were a good ways away from the commotion so that they wouldn't hear your movements, you took off running, sprinting as fast as you could, considering the water and cold pelting rain. 

You felt safer distancing yourself, but the pull within your chest kept ringing, demanding that you return. It felt like an invisible fishing line, tied around your sternum, tightening and stretching the farther you got. 

2000 HOURS 

You had long slowed to a walk, running your hands through your soaked hair. The rain continued, but the light of day was disappearing, even faster as the storm grew. It would soon be night. You pulled your rain cloak around you tighter, leaning against the tree to steady yourself. 

You sighed, and started your way back, figuring it was safe as they'd be long gone.. There was no way you'd be able to sleep out here in the elements- the cold rain wasn't slowing, and you'd more than likely drown if you set up a makeshift camp. You couldn't remember exactly how long it had been since you had left your post at the top of the overhang, but surely The First Order had left by now. There was nothing but old ship parts, and once they realized that, they would have left. 

This hurt your soul more than you thought it would. The idea of being alone, again, stung like cold ice. Even if it was The First Order, it grew hope within you all over again that you would make it off of this uninhabited planet. You had observed several ships, all representing escape. But there was no way The First Order would be anything close to hospitable. You'd have to find another way.

Soon, your feet led you to the clearing. It was a miracle you had found your way back, the darkness surrounding you was desolate, and your eyes were still struggling to adjust to the finality of it. The faint blue glow of your security light on your ship was the only guide back. As you reached the edge of the clearing, avoiding the treacherous overhand, your heart froze.

The dark, metallic shimmer of wet, black metal glistened with a flash of lightning.

The Flagship, cold and stark and dwarfing your ruined ship.

They were still here.


	3. Wound

Goddamnit. 

By now, you were completely drenched, wet to your bones. Your heart dropped, your stomach dropped. You had convinced yourself that they would be gone, but yet... here they were. Only their ships- no sight of the Troopers, or the two figures. 

You mentally sighed, shifting uneasily. The muddy water was up to your knees, making your boots heavy and waterlogged. You could barely feel your toes at this point. You wanted nothing more than to strip down and let yourself dry off by the dim light of your makeshift bed chamber, warming yourself with a small fire. Your teeth started chattering, and you clenched your jaw in vain to still them. 

God. Dammit. 

The ships seemed quiet, their insides most likely housing sleeping soldiers. You didn't know if they slept, but figured so. You stood, shifting back and forth, debating on your next move. 

A particularly big flash of lightning lit up the clearing, your eye catching on something glistening in the shadows that you hadn't noticed before. The thunder growled as your eyes took in the small ship. 

A TIE fighter. Resting quietly on the ground, like a sleek black predator. Unattended. 

Suddenly, your chest filled with golden hope. That ship was your ticket off of this damn planet. From your experience, it was fast- fast enough to get the hell out of dodge before any of The First Order woke up and noticed it's disappearance. 

The rain continued to strike down, and you began to creep along the tree line, thanking the Gods for the cover of darkness and the roar of the road to hide the sloshing sound of your boots in the mud. Your heart raced, pounding loudly in your chest, threatening to drown out the rolls of thunder above. Your hands shook- from hunger or fear, you weren't really sure. Probably both.

Your boots slipped slightly, and you caught yourself on a small tree, cursing to yourself before continuing on, quickening your pace. 

The TIE fighter was nestled in a small area to the backside of your ship, surrounded by the most part by brush and trees. Thank the gods- it was just enough cover to be out of the line of sight of the main ship. It felt like you were navigating yourself around an angry, buzzing nest of hornets, knowing damn well any major disturbance would wake the dangerous beings inside. 

You were but a few strides from the sleek black ship, shifting around waterlogged underbrush that reached your hips. You ducked down as much as you could, your arms catching and snagging on the twigs. 

By now your heart was nearly exploding with adrenaline, the loud pumps echoing in your ear and sending your entire body into shivers. You could smell the sharp scent of wet metal, nearly able to taste it on your tongue. You were about to get the fuck out of here. 

A flash of lightning crackled through the atmosphere, and as your right leg hit the ground, a dull snap and agonizing pain ripped through you. You couldn't hold back a yelp, a scream, and fell to the ground. 

You clawed at your right leg, grasping at the searing pain, and glanced down. Through the mud, you saw the source- a metal trap, armed with sharp, thick silver spikes, latched itself around your leg. It was connected to the ground with a rusted chain that disappeared into the ground. You had started bleeding immediately, the spikes slicing through and stabbing into the delicate skin just above your ankle. You writhed, trying to pry it apart, gritting your teeth as your hands slipped through the mud and rain water and scarlet blood. 

How could I have been so fucking blind? Of course this was a trap. 

You laid back, panting, grabbing the chain and heaving yourself back, but it was not budging. Your leg was screaming, pulsating and throbbing with every erratic beat of your heart, more and more of your blood pooling into the ground around you. Your hands made purchase once more on the trap, trying to pry it's sharp metal lips from around your leg. It budged about a centimeter, but then you lost your grip and it latched on even harder than before as you let out a guttural yell that wouldn't stay behind your clenched teeth.

You fell onto your back, your chest heaving in agony, heavy rain drops hitting your face, as if they were laughing at you. The familiar hiss of a ships door opening caught your ear, and you prayed they hadn't heard anything. 

The pull on your sternum told you otherwise.


	4. Found

You laid, covered in mud, wounded, and bleeding, until the first gray light of morning. Throughout the night, you tried several times to free yourself from the trap, but it was in vain. The metal contraption stayed tight in its vice grip, shredding the meat of your leg with each movement. You tried to maintain your consciousness, only making small movements, racking your brain for a way to get out of this. You didn't think this was something you'd talk your way out of. Sorry I was trying to steal your ship. Can you let me go?

The invisible string that seemed to have wrapped around your chest was pulled taut and remained as such throughout the remainder of the night. 

With every shift and struggle, you felt the spikes of the trap slice into your skin deeper, deeper, scraping against your leg bone. Your face felt numb, and you almost felt as if you'd lose consciousness, your vision blackening and becoming fuzzy. 

While the storm had nearly dissipated, the rain kept a steady, taunting drizzle. It felt like the universe was threatening to drown you. Hell, you did feel drowned- smothered in mud, laying in nearly three inches of water, and clinging to life. You felt light headed, and had long given up on saving yourself, feeling the effects of the blood loss, nearly ready to succumb and just get it over with. There was no telling what the fuck these heartless soldiers had in store for you. 

It wasn't long before you heard the sloshing and slipping of footfalls nearing you. You felt tears continue to well up and overflow, cascading down your face. You thanked the sky for the light rain, hiding your tears and giving you at least a shred of dignity. You didn't want to face your captors like a terrified, sniveling mess- at least they wont be able to tell you're crying. 

The bleach white helmets approached, making headway through the brush, and they stalled a few feet from you. It was obvious they could see you, and your breathing hiccuped with realization of just how much deep shit you were actually in. You kept your vision straight up to the sky, remaining still and trying to breathe steadily.

Maybe they'll just leave me for fucking dead. If I'm lucky. 

"Sir." In your peripherals, you saw one of them turned to the side, calling back to someone behind them. "It must have went into the trap over night."

It? I'm an 'it,' now? You bit the inside of your lip, silently praying, refusing to make eye contact. You figured with your current state, covered in blood and rain and mud, it was probably hard to tell your gender. 

"Bring her to the medical unit." A modulated, male voice caused your eyes to jerk to the side, facing the black, glistening helmet of the tallest figure. You had underestimated his height- he was towering over the group of Stormtroopers, who immediately began to approach at his command. You didn't know why he wore a helmet- he was no Trooper. He didn't seem like a soldier, but you had no desire to see what was under the emotionless mask. You didn't want to know what kind of monster was so evil, he had to hide his face. Pain was overriding your thought process, and you didn't notice the sharp twang, as if it had been plucked and was vibrating, of the invisible string in your chest at the dark creature's voice. 

Two Troopers came forward, holstering their blasters. They knew you would be no threat- hell, you nearly looked dead already. 

One of them bent down, deactivating the trap's connection to the ground, but its jaws remained just as aggressively clamped down on your leg, no promise of relief. The two soliders bent down, grabbing you by your shoulders. Your head lulled forward with the shift in position, and your vision nearly went black. 

You weren't sure how much blood you had lost, but your entire body felt wet-paper thin and just as fragile. They held you steady, keeping a solid, strong, armored arm locked tightly onto and under your arms, firmly forcing you to hobble on your one good leg. You kept your head down, refusing to look up (not that you had the energy or strength to, any way). Your gaze fell onto the large shiny black boots as you limped past the tall masked figure, feeling his burning gaze. Your leg screamed in agony as the blood rushed and flowed with gravity to the wound, fresh, glowing-bright blood flowing more freely down your leg, around the metal of the trap, and into your boot. You hissed, and started to slow your pace, which the Troopers were not happy with. They grunted, cursing you, and continued to half carry, half drag you to the ramp leading into the ship.

Before you were fully up the ramp, your entire body fell limp in their armored grip, and your vision fell black. 

__________

You felt warmth, and dryness. Like a fresh towel from a dryer. 

A faint beeping sound made its way into your thoughts, and for a moment you forgot where you were. It wasn't long until the aching pain of your leg reminded you exactly where you were. You pried your eyes open, shifting as you took in the bright white surroundings. The beeping was obviously medical, and it wasn't long until you gathered your thoughts- you were in a hospital unit. Your arms felt heavy, and your head was pounding. 

You glanced down, your eyes even hurting with the movement, and saw your leg, now free of its metal teeth, but not free from the wounds it left behind. 

It was wrapped in white gauze, but obviously had quickly bled through. You suddenly realized you were not wearing pants, and quickly gathered you were not in any of the clothes you had been found in. You were half relieved, half mortified- glad to finally be dry and warm, and not completely covered in mud, but you also felt extremely violated. You were in a cloth hospital gown that fit loosely around your frame. 

You moved to touch your hair, wondering if it were still caked in cold rain water and mud, but felt a sharp tug.

"Fuck!" You hissed, noticing you were connected to an IV drip, following the small clear tube from the top of your hand up to a small bag filled with clear liquid. You gently set your hand back down to your side, cursing at the effort it took to even move. 

Your head fell back onto the pillow, breathing heavy. 

"Ok. It's gonna be ok. They wouldn't waste the medical supplies if they were gonna kill you," You told yourself, quietly, but out loud, as if you were speaking it into existence- into a truth. 

Suddenly, a small hiss came from the front of the room, and the heavy gray door slid sideways. Your entire body tensed, using up what energy you had regained. 

For some reason, you had expected the worst- the masked monster, but instead a man in a white doctors uniform came in. You sighed in relief, but cursed yourself for thinking this First Order doctor could possibly be any better. They were all playing for the same team. His skin was pale, dark eyes and sandy hair. He seemed fairly short, but still athletic. For a doctor. The door slid shut behind him.

"You lost quite a bit of blood." His voice was sharp and rigid and matter-of-fact, and he kept his gaze on his tablet in front of him, typing. "I'm surprised you're even conscious right now." 

You didn't respond. 

"Your vitals seem to be improving, however." He paused. "Considering."

You still didn't respond. After a few moments, he looked up at you, then to your leg, his eyebrows furrowing. 

"I'll have a nurse change that for you." He made a few more motions of typing on the tablet, and then turned to a metal stand in the corner of the room. Your eyes followed him, your heart beat beginning to race. As did the beeping of the heart monitor.

"Easy. It's just pain medication." He called, obviously noting the rise in heart rate. He held a syringe of amber liquid, moving to the side of you. 

You didn't trust him, but still didn't speak.

He moved to the IV tube, removing the bag and moving to administer the new medication he had just retrieved into the tube that led into the top of your wrist, but stopped when the door suddenly hissed and opened, two Stormtroopers entering the room. 

"The Commander wants to speak to her." One of them spoke, their voice modulated through their helmet. The blond doctor turned, lowering the syringe.

"She is still in no condition to-" 

"Direct orders from the Commander." 

The doctor seemed to bite his tongue, pausing for a moment, but then began removing the IV. 

The heart rate monitor sped up faster than ever before.


	5. String

You remained motionless as the doctor continued to unhook you from the medical devices. The two Stormtroopers remained at attention, their rigid stance telling of their impatience. With the removal of the final attachment, the machine beeping in rhythm to your heart rate flatlined and then shut off. 

As if this was signal for the Troopers to take over, the doctor stepped to the side, giving them space to come to the side.

"She still cannot walk on her right leg." He stated, matter-of-factly as the two soldiers reached your bedside. They appeared to listen, halting but keeping their attention on you. Their stance was an unspoken order: Get. Up.

You were still too frightened to move. With a masked sigh, one of them moved to your side, shoving an armored arm somewhat roughly under your own, nearly dragging you to the side of the bed.This push was firm enough for you to will your feet over the side of the bed, yelping as your wounded leg met the ground. The blood rushed downwards towards the still-painful lacerations and punctures, and you felt a rush of warm wetness as the blood continued to seep through the bandages. 

Immediately, the Troopers were at your side, and a part of you was grateful for their firm grasp on you, giving you support so that you could apply as little weight on your injury as possible. 

Slowly, you made your way through the hospital door, pale-faced from the exertion and the lightheadedness. You could barely put two toes down on your injured leg, and your heavy stride on your good leg jarred through your weakened body. The pain had long overridden any thoughts of hunger, but as far as you could remember, this would be day four without a warm meal. 

Your head pounded as you continued to be escorted down a metallic hallway. Although the corridor was lined with doors-hospital rooms, you assumed- it was oddly quiet. Only the footfalls of the Troopers boots could be heard, and your heavy-landing foot fall. They were somewhat alert and aware of the pain you were in, tolerating your limp, but you could feel they were biting at the bit to pick up the pace. By now, you were leaning heavily onto their support, even though their cold, armored touch was sending shivers up your spine. 

You had been so focused on walking, breathing and pacing through the gnawing pain, you almost forgot the destination. Turning a sharp corner, you were suddenly faced with a heavy-looking metal door. One Trooper keyed in a code on the pin pad to the side of the door, and within a moment it slid open. The room that lay before you was cloaked in shadows and dim light. It appeared to be a sort of conference room, a long table that could easily seat fourteen stretched along its' center. A florescent light shone down from the center of the ceiling, icy rays of white glimmering in the black glossy table top. 

You were held stilled, halted alongside the Troopers. They were waiting for permission to enter, you gathered. Your eyes felt wide, like prey discovering a predator's lair. 

While you heart beat rapidly in anticipation, hot blood coursing through your veins and still leaking out your leg, your inner chest felt the familiar tug. A thin thread, as if tied and wrapped throughout your ribs, pulled and tightened, like a fish testing a lure before taking a bite. 

"Enter." A familiar deep, modulated voice sliced through the thick silence, still not giving away his location. You felt frozen, but the Troopers had no problem half-dragging you into the room. They led you to the front of the table, pulling a chair out and firmly pressed you into the seat. 

You were grateful to have the weight off of your leg, but the cold, taut leather of the chair bit into your legs and through your thin gown. You shivered, but weren't sure if it was from the chill, or the danger that filled the air. Whatever room you had been brought to, didn't feel safe. It was cold and icy, tension thick in the air. 

What the fuck have I gotten myself into? You were in no condition to make a run for it- you could barely walk. Regardless, you had no idea how to navigate this ship. You wouldn't know where to run. 

"You may leave." The voice called out, emotionless, and you could sense now that it came from behind you. 

Your gaze remained tight, glaring down at the table's edge in front of you, refusing to move as the armored foot falls of The Troopers made their way out the door. You felt any movement from you could be a deadly mistake, so decided to keep still. The thread within your chest began to tighten around your frantic heart like a snake constricting a mouse. You felt your heartbeat throb into your injury, exacerbating the waves of pain. 

You racked your brain, cursing yourself. How dare you even think of stealing a ship from The First Order, of all ships. You wanted to blame it on your hungry mind, but couldn't. It was your own overconfidence that was your downfall here. A careless mistake had gotten you here, and given you a near-broken leg, if capture wasn't enough of a pride-killer. 

A TIE Fighter? What the fuck was I thinking?

"I'm surprised you made it through the night." The dark, unaffected, modulated voice pierced through the air like a blade, revealing a closer proximity than before. The statement was more of an observation than a false concern with your wellbeing. You felt a chill cover your neck, bringing goosebumps to the surface. You didn't respond, instead keeping your gaze locked downward. Your instincts told you the creature was much closer, but still remained at your back. 

'Should I apologize for surviving?' You thought, trying to steady your heart. They were the ones treating you, wasting medical supplies. They very well could have left you to bleed out, succumb to your injury, or, at the rate of the rain, drown slowly. You couldn't imagine how much torturous a death there could be, but didn't want to test out The First Order's ideas of painful. 

"Silence will not help you here, Resistance scum." The voice was sharp, and much closer than before. You kept your eyes trained down, willing the threat to pass. Resistancel?! Oh gods, they think I'm with the Resistance.

"I'm not-" You froze, completely losing your voice as you saw in your peripherals, familiar black boots stalk around the side of you, and stilled directly in front. You couldn't catch your breath, and felt faint. You concentrated your gaze downward, ever still. 

"Look at me."

You remained still, refusing. Not out of rebellion, but pure fear. Your hands shook as they remained gripped on the arms of the chair, your entire body beginning to shiver.

A sudden flash of black and a gloved hand gripped onto your chin, pulling you out of your fear trance. You were looking up at the creature, just as you had feared. He stood above you, his chrome and black mask glaring down at you, expressionless. You didn't know where to look- his eyes were hidden, but you imagined his gaze was anything but tolerant. 

"Please...." You managed in a whisper, the taut gloved hand still tightly gripping your face. You didn't know exactly what you were pleading for- to be let go, to not be harmed, to not die? 

The masked being didn't falter his intense, angry gaze, but instead, slowly moved the gloved hand to your forehead, gripping hard at your temples. You squeezed your eye shut, ready for the final blow. A dull pressure began to grow in the center of your head, like a dying ember being breathed upon. 

The string that had seemed to grow within your chest tightened more than ever, seeming to weave itself in and out of your heaving lungs and ribs. 

"Stop resisting." The modulation whispered lowly, crackling as it struggled to pick up his voice. 

The pressure within your head grew, but only slightly, as if the metaphoric ember was refusing to fully light. The gloved hands gripped your temples even tighter, in what seemed to be agitation. Suddenly, the hands were ripped away from your head, a frustrated huff came from the masked man, and you opened your eyes to see his figure pacing to the back of the room, fists clenched at his sides. His back was heaving with apparent anger. 

But from what? I haven't done anything...why did he stop...? 

"I-I'm not with the Resistance." You managed, your voice hoarse from lack of use. The figure didn't budge, keeping his back to you. "I'm just a scavenger, I-"

"Tried to steal a TIE fighter from The First Order." He spoke, turning his head but remaining with his back to you, his voice laced with growing frustration and anger. Fuck. You swallowed, becoming cotton-mouthed, trying to will your saliva to function normally so you could speak. 

"I've been stranded here for months, I was just trying to-" 

"Steal. You were trying to steal a ship." This time, he turned, pacing back towards your seated position. Your breath hitched and caught in your throat as the broad figure approached. 

"A TIE fighter, no less." His voice seemed a bit calmer, but still laced with fury. He continued, "which only a skilled pilot would be knowledgeable enough to commandeer." 

You racked your brain. Where was he going with this? Sure, you had knowledge. You wouldn't necessarily call yourself an expert, but had flown a variety of ships- enough to have basic knowledge and become a bit of a jack of all trades. A TIE fighter surely wasn't that different. You remembered he called you Resistance...

"I'm not a Resistance pilot- I'm not a sympathizer. I am just a scavenger- I'm neutral." 

"Neutrality in war is choosing a side." His response was short, and cold. His firm tone reminded you how softly you were speaking. You had survived countless... 'hiccups' in scavenging missions. Hell, you survived a crash that no one should have walked away from. Your wit was your strongest ally, and your injury had made it hard to think clearly. You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You decided to negotiate, to appeal to his authority. 

"General, I- "

"Excuse me?" His head whipped around, fists clenching with the squeak of leather, his entire body moving closer to yours. 

Fuck. 

Okay, so he wasn't a General.


	6. Bleed

You could feel the anger radiate off of him in hot waves.

Way to go, you thought. Insulting him with a lower title of General. But what was his position? You held your breath, moving your gaze downward and cursing your mouth. You were trying to be... respectful. And it backfired majorly.

"You will NOT disrespect me." He continued his approach, long legs giving him lengthy strides. His sudden aggressive demeanor shot just enough adrenaline through you to startle you to a semi standing position. The shift of your body faltered as your weight came down on your injured leg, and you stumbled sideways, trying to regain your balance, knocking the leather chair backwards. 

You stumbled backwards to the wall as he continued to stalk towards you, and your shaky hands met purchase on the railing that trailed the perimeter of the room. 

"Please, I didn't-" 

"I am growing tired of your games. You resist me, you lie to me, and now you mock me."

"What?! I haven't lied about anything!" Your breath was cut off quickly with the raise of his hand, palm outstretched in a Force grip that threatened to crush your windpipe. Your hands immediately went up to your throat, to try and pry the invisible grip away, but found yourself being lifted off of your feet, toes barely brushing the ground as you shifted and kicked your legs, praying for a release. 

"Commander." A flighty voice, near shouting, interrupted the chaos. You had barely heard him through the pressure in your head and your throat. With an annoyed hiss, the dark figure lowered his hand, and with that, you collapsed to the ground, moaning in agony as your wounded leg crumbled underneath your fall. You gasped for air between the yelps of pain and the string felt like it was knotting itself within the veins in your lungs. 

"She's bled all onto the floor." The red haired authority figure scoffed, glancing down at you, annoyed. As if you were a puppy that pissed on the floor. If you weren't trying to maintain consciousness, you might have been offended. The tall figure was heaving, trying to regain himself. 

"Is that why you came to interrupt, General Hux?" The dark mask spoke, as if gritting his teeth. 

Ah, so the red head is the general. You took a mental note, grasping at your leg, finding your palms covered in blood as the gauze failed to stop the new bleeding. You hugged your good leg to your chest, trying to become smaller as the two men continued their animosity.

General Hux pursed his thin lips, obviously biting his tongue. "No, Commander." 

Commander... Not General. Of course.... You glanced over to the tall figure, who still stood aggressive and angry, fists clenched at his side. He seemed to be struggling to maintain his composure.

"We found it." The ginger stated, firm, no hint of expression betraying his sharp features. At this news, the Commander faltered, his stance relaxing. He turned slowly to you, his expression still unreadable. Your chest had hurt with the tightness of the invisible string, but at his readjustment, it began to loosen. He strode over to you, slowly, and knelt down beside you, his large arms resting on his knees.

"Leave us." He stated, not bothering to look away from you. 

He was addressing the General, but Gods did you wish he was directing that order to you. You felt tiny, frail- everything you hated- under his smoldering eye-less gaze. Without question, the General spun on his heels and left the room. The door behind him closed with finality, and you jumped.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, girl." 

You didn't answer, flinching at his words, but managing to meet his gaze with your own. Your hands were covered in your own blood, and was smeared all around you, openly bleeding through your gauze.

"Just fucking kill me already." At this point, you wanted it over with. You were tired of these games, these assumptions- you were going to die anyway at this rate- from fucking blood loss. He paused, looking over you inquisitively. 

"Not yet." The dark voice replied after a moment, tauntingly. You felt tears well up in your eyes, confirming your fears, but you swallowed to keep them from overflowing. You lowered your head.

"Stand." The figure was at his full height now, standing over you like a great black tree. You didn't move. Not necessarily out of defiance, but out of physical weakness. You just couldn't. Your lack of cooperation, whether it was voluntary or not, angered him. You weren't surprised- it seemed like the very thought of your lungs breathing air pissed him off.

"I.. I can't." 

"That wasn't a suggestion. " He said quickly, unfaltering. Even through the modulator you could tell it was through gritted teeth. When you remained where you were, he exhaled heavily before reaching down with the strike speed of a cobra, grasping your upper arm and yanking you to a standing position. You yelped, hobbling to where your stance wasn't putting any pressure on your injury. You grabbed at the wall for support, smearing blood along the railing, much to The Commander's distaste. He scoffed, a mechanical huff emitting from his helmet, as he maintained his grip on your arm. 

You hated feeling so weak in front of this authority figure. For some reason, it brought a thick blush to your cheeks, if you even had enough blood left to flush your face. Your leg was agonizing, and you could feel yourself weakening with every struggled movement.

It seemed this Commander was beginning to see just how wounded you actually were, moving his gaze to your leg. He sighed, grasping your arm once again to move you towards the door. You started hobbling, a slight sliver of hope that he was releasing you, or at least kicking you out of his presence. Instead, he angrily slowed his pace, only slightly, in order to allow you to keep upright and moving forward. His grip stayed tight, and firm. Threatening. Daring you to run, even though you both knew there was no possibility of that. 

A sinking feeling in your gut emerged like a body of water freezing over. There's no way in Hell he would release you- he was going to kill you.


	7. Force

His grip translated his anger and impatience extremely well. 

While he was somewhat tolerant of your bleeding wound, he scolded you several times, complaining of the blood in his ships hallways. You stumbled as he moved you forward, hissing as your leg began to prevent any further movement. Your body was beyond pissed at you, rejecting the will to walk. You found yourself gripping onto his dark-clothed arm for balance and relief from the weight on your leg, to which he scoffed under his mask. 

"It hurts to fucking walk. I can't keep up this pace." You hissed under your breath, and he shook your arm slightly. 

"Watch your tone." He ordered, glaring down at you. He stilled, allowing you to rest for a moment. But with an exacerbated sigh, his patience snapped in half. He made a quick movement, sweeping the back of your knees into his other arm, steading you with the other, as he picked you up into strong, clothed arms.

"No no no, you don't have to-"

"I don't have time." He silenced your opposition quickly, and you didn't have the fight in you to argue. 

You tensed, feeling the warmth of his chest and arms around you. Reminding you that there was, in fact, a living breathing being behind the mask. You weren't sure if this was comforting. The embrace itself was nothing short of terribly uncomfortable, for the both of you. He glided through the hallway, a black cloak trailing behind him as the pace became twice as fast as it was with you hobbling on the ground.

You dared a glance upwards, looking upon his terribly dark mask through your lashes, hoping he wouldn't notice. The shine of chrome reflected parts of your face, but the rest of the mask was lost to the color of dead, dark space. You adverted your eyes. 

"Guard!" He suddenly yelled, and a Stormtrooper stood at attention as you both approached. 

"Commander Ren." The white mask retorted respectfully. 

Ah, so the monster's name is Ren...? 

"Clean the conference hall. Her blood is staining everywhere." He retorted through his mask, annoyance laced in his tone. You couldn't help but slightly roll your eyes, making sure your gaze was downwards to avoid him seeing your expression. It wasn't like you were bleeding on purpose. 

"Yes, Commander." The white armored solider saluted, immediately beginning the task he was assigned. He didn't even glance your way. Does this masked creature carry bleeding women through these halls, often? You didn't want to know. Perhaps it was from blood loss, or the acceptance of near death, you felt your quiet tongue begin to sharpen. 

"I'm still bleeding everywhere." 

Immediately his grip tightened, warning you silently. You heeded this, and bit back any further retorts. The door to your right opened with his approach, and you were quickly carried inside. 

It was a hospital room, the bright environment housing a small railed bed, cabinets with medical supplies, and florescent lights. Suddenly, you were roughly placed back on your feet, much to your distain. You didn't need to be ordered further, and made your way onto the bed, wincing as you adjusted yourself and lifted your bloody leg. Now that you were in a reclined position, you saw just how bloodied you were. The gauze, once bleach white, was completely scarlet, and little rivulets of bright red were tracing down your ankles and over the tops of your feet. You exhaled, and leaned back against the stiff pillow, barely opening your eyes to see the enormous figure looming in the corner. He stood still as a statue, waiting. Observing you. 

You didn't push for conversation, the silence would suffice. It felt good to be off your leg, but you had long since begun the acceptance of your impending doom. This must be a case of mistaken identity. They think you're Resistance, but by the gods, you most certainly were not. Sure, ILLEGALLY acquiring rare, sought after ship parts was nothing you were a stranger to. Such is a scavenger's life. 

You were anything but Resistance. 

But no matter your insisting, the shadowy form of Commander Ren would not budge in his assumptions. Speaking of the devil, he maintained a sharp glare at you as he sat in a leather chair near the door.

'Is he babysitting me now?' You thought to yourself with a bitterness. 

What did he mean, lying to him? About what? General Hux, interrupted with "we found it." Found what, exactly? You weren't sure, but you would be just fine not finding out. Surely they'll realize you have no part in whatever they think you have. Surely. 

The pale faced, sandy haired doctor entered the room, swiping a keycard on the interior of the doorframe. The familiar face was anything but relieving. Instead, he glared down at you, seemingly looking directly through you. Like an animal needing to be put down. 

You found enough saliva in your dry mouth to swallow. 

"Unacceptable wound care." The deep voice emitted from the mask caused you to jump ever so slightly. You realized he was directing the jab to the medical professional, who seemed unaffected. Or maybe, he was just used to the constant critique from Commander Ren. 

"The wound dressing did not take into account walking around the halls of the ship, Commander." The doctor spoke. You felt the intention of bitterness in his words, but his tone revealed nothing as he made his way to your bedside. 

"She is not a guest of The First Order, and will not be treated as such." The Commander retorted quickly, daring the sandy haired man to challenge him. But he was met with nothing of the sort. The doctor, instead, began undressing the blood soaked gauze and bandaging, ignoring your slight whimpers of soreness. 

"She will need rest. Possibly rehabilitation, but mainly rest. She is in no spot to travel." The bandages were peeled from your skin, sopping wet and scented of iron. You brought your hands above your head, gritting your teeth as your aching wound was treated. You could barely feel your toes, and the tautness of your skin around the ankle helped to show just how much it had swollen. You refused to lower your pride enough to ask for something to relieve the pain. Through gritted teeth, you glanced upwards, eyes in pained slits, meeting the gaze of the Commander, who was watching you intently. 

"How long until she is healed?" 

The old bandages were thrown away, and the wound was cleaned thoroughly. All under the careful watch of Commander Ren. The doctor took his time to answer his question.

"She's lucky it didn't break her leg. These traps were designed for large game animals." His eyes darted down at you, seeming somewhat satisfied with the freshly wrapped leg. His gaze held some sort of emotion, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Your mind was exhausted. "Regardless, the wounds are pretty deep. I'd estimate a week before she could manage putting weight on both legs."

The Commander remained silent at the doctor's recommendation, still not leaving your figure. 

You shifted under his gaze, suddenly feeling very aware of the thin gown you were currently wearing. The pain had lessened after the doctor administered the pain medication- the same syringe he was interrupted with previously. Your eyes were growing heavy, and before you knew it, you were out.


	8. Heal

It seemed you had slept the good part of the next four days, waking only briefly as the nurse aids brought small portions of bland food. You didn't care- the meal was warm, and that would suffice. Your day fluctuated between those three scheduled meals, and they soon became your only measurement of time passing. They would remove the previous meal's tray, replacing it with the next meal like a changing of the guard. You had assumed in your half-sleep state that the doctor had kept you on a steady strain of heavy pain meds, keeping you unconscious for the greater part of the days. 

It was on the fifth day, the medication had been lessened enough for you to come back to regular consciousness. You woke with a headache- you didn't realize that there could be a thing as too much rest, but your head was swimmy with the shake back to reality. 

You noticed upon waking that your leg was no where near the throbbing, angry, bright red it was, and the gauze and bandages were thinner and lesser than before. The dull, annoying beep of the heart monitor chirped through the room, and you ran a pale hand through your tangled hair. 

When you had begun to gather your thoughts, you heard the heart rate monitor increase its rhythm. The last memories of consciousness that you had flooded back, and you remembered it all. 

The invisible Force choking you, holding you dangling above the floor. The angry, impatient growls, demanding answers you did not have. The hollow blackness of the mask. The liquid chrome highlights reflecting your fearful face. General Hux's message; 'we found it.'

Remembering these encounters sent a wave of energy through your rested body. The room you were in was quiet, dark, and more importantly...empty. You looked around for a clock, praying to have a hint at the current time, but there was none to be found. You noticed the tray of food you had eaten the previous day was yet to be removed, signifying it was some odd time between night and morning. 

You shifted, a spark of hope returning to your chest. They were still treating your wounds, changing your bandages, feeding you- that had to be a good sign. Right? You didn't feel like a guest, whatsoever. In fact, you felt more like a lamb being prepared for slaughter. 

Bringing your legs to hang over the edge of the hospital bed, your bare feet dangled above the icy floor. Your leg felt eons better than it had, and the painful pressure was almost non existent now. Finally. It was beginning to feel you had a dog in this fight- a chance to still make it out of here. 

Wiggling your toes, and lowering the bottom of your feet to the cold floor, you tested the steadiness of your legs. They still felt weak- but nothing compared to what they had been. The IV connected to you was easily yanked out with a quick tug. 

Your mind was quickly made up with your newly recharged energy... it was high time to get the fuck out of here.

Feet planted firmly on the ground, your legs seemed to be somewhat in agreement- they were ready to run. The room was silent, aside from the patter of your feet shuffling towards the door. Taking a moment to assess the room a little further, you looked for some sort of weapon. None that could hold its own to a Stormtrooper's blaster, and you had assumed yours had long been confiscated. 

Leaning your ear to the door, you were met with silence. Perfect. It seemed as though the ship was still sleeping, for the most part- the perfect time to make a dash. You halted, glancing at the keypad near the door frame. Nine glossy, squared buttons, in three rows of three. You had cracked the codes on pin-pads of this sort on countless ships prior- locked doors never were a problem for you, especially when expensive ship parts were just begging to be taken on the other side. 

You shifted downward, crouching to get a better angle. Just as you had suspected. There were worn, matte sections on the buttons that were used in the passcode. It took only a moment, brushing your fingers over the worn buttons, assessing and contemplating the proper sequence. 

Going with your gut, you typed in a random code, going off of the worn buttons. 

A red light flashed atop the pin-pad. Taunting you. Wrong code. You held your breath, praying there wouldn't be an alarm set for an improper code input. Furrowing your eyebrows, you continued once more, typing in an educated guess of the correct code. 

"Fuck." Muttering under your breath, you saw the red light flash again, seeming to laugh at your efforts of escape.

Wrong again. 

You wiped your sweating palms onto the front of your gown, and raised your hand once more. Determined. 

You typed in the last prediction you had, holding your breath. 

Finally. The green light of hope flashed like a smile, and the door quickly slid open. Without hesitation, you kept low and barely stuck your head out, checking the hallways for any patrols that might have heard your escape. 

The halls were, thankfully, empty. Silent as space. 

You kept close to the wall, feeling your heart pounding, the tiny string that had wound itself around your chest lay dormant. You cursed yourself for not completely planning this out... you didn't know which part of the ship this was- or any clue as to how to navigate these endless halls.

Just as you feared, the heavy shuffling steps of a patrol echoed behind you in the farther reaches of the hall. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. You cursed, shuffling, panicking- and decided to make a dash to a door without a code, just a quick open access button, and dove inside as soon as the door opened.

Quickly it was apparent that this was a type of storage closet, perhaps for a janitor. Boxes of used wires stacked upon one another, nearly reaching the ceiling. Various light fixtures, and bulbs, along with cleaning supplies. You prayed this wasn't a frequently visited room, and drew a sharp breath, exhaling slowly. It wouldn't be long before the nurses who deliver the breakfast found you missing. The alarms would be set off, and no doubt would patrols begin searching every last inch of this ship. 

You felt trapped. Out of one cage and into another. Your head fell into your hands as you tried to conjure up another plan. 

Within your chest, the string twitched. Sharply, as if it had been plucked like an instrument's string. You stilled, halfway expecting to hear the vibrations. The dying ember within you flickered hot orange, as if a quick breath was blown, igniting throughout your veins like a heatwave. 

What the fuck is happening? Your first initial though was a tracking device, but your skin gave no hints of an insertion point, nor an under-the-skin foreign device. Again, the string was plucked. Much harder this time, enough for you to grasp at your chest. 'Am I having a fucking heart attack?' 

The invisible string was pulled so tightly, now, that it was shivering, vibrating, and you even looked down to see if there was an actual string running through your sternum. Something was pulling you- out the door. 

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, stilling your nerves, and felt another tug. This time, you stood, searching frantically for a hiding space. You weren't sure what this feeling was, or what it meant, but you felt it within you the instinct to hide. And quickly. 

Moving a set of boxes, you found a small opening under a metal shelving unit, just big enough for you to curl into. Your leg argued with you for a moment, the awkward shifting causing dull pain. You curled your self up, pushing as far back against the wall as you could, feeling fairly keen on your hiding spot. You brought your knees up to your chest, hugging them tight, while resting your face within the space between the tops of you knees and collarbone. 

The string didn't still.

A breath later, and you heard a set of boots striding just outside the door. The footfalls faded away suddenly, and your tense figure relaxed. The string stilled as well, and you felt it was a good sign. 

Just as you were about to emerge from your hiding space, feeling as if the coast was somewhat clear, the thread was yanked to attention, nearly bringing about a physical gasp from you. What the FUCK is this? You chalked it up to instinct, or... something. 

Because the invisible thread yanked and pulled, just as the footfalls made their way back to the door you had chosen to hide behind. The sliver of light under the door was barely visible, and a pair of large boots created shadows that nearly reached your frame.

You were about to be found. Again.


	9. Caught

The shadows of the boots revealed the figure outside was standing still, but facing the door nonetheless. You pressed yourself back farther against the steel shelving unit. Praying to the gods that you hadn't been found missing, just yet. You had barely made it to the end of the hall, for gods sake- you can't get caught just yet.

The breath in your lungs stilled as the door slid open. 

You didn't have to see who it was- you felt him. 

Commander Ren.

Your heart was pounding so loudly as you remained hidden in your little crawlspace, you were sure he would hear it. The boots continued into the room, slow, every step calculated. As if he already knew. 

Sweat dripped down the side of your face and your hand moved slowly to your mouth, begging your breaths to quieten. The black military boots came into your view, stopping briefly, before turning to directly face your hiding spot. 

You silently begged the universe to spare you, remaining frozen to the spot, quivering. 'This was it- I'm going to die.' 

"You will come out from there. Now." The modulated voice ordered, confirming your fear that he found you. Even through the mask, you felt his words tinged with anger. He remained unmoving, his boots still directly facing you. You didn't move a muscle. 

After a brief pause, you felt a Force grab hold of your uninjured leg, yanking you out from under the shelf, dragging you across the floor. A whimper left your lips, and you looked up to see him standing over you. The Force was still latched onto your leg, and now your entire body, rendering you immobile. You couldn't tear your eyes from the mask as he continued to tower over you. 

Slowly, as if approaching a cornered animal, he crouched next to you. The mask was now mere inches from your face.

"I see you're feeling... much better." The voice was now low, sarcastic but barely above a whisper, smooth like black velvet. You didn't answer, and tears threatened to flow out of the corner of your eyes. With a sudden movement, you were grabbed, picked up and thrown over his broad shoulder. At this, you discovered your body was still released from it's immobility, and just as he turned and exited the doorway, you started thrashing in his grip, landing fists upon his broad back, kicking out your legs in a last bit attempt to escape his grasp. He seemed completely unaffected, and cooly opened a large door with the pass of his hand on a keypad. 

"You fucking asshole- let me go!" Your voice was shrill, near screaming. With an annoyed huff, he shifted and you were roughly tossed onto the hard floor of the room you were now in. In your struggled, your thin hospital gown had shifted, the neck nearly draped off of your shoulders, revealing your collarbones. And much to your burning cheeks, it had also ridden up way above your stomach, leaving you completely. You stood quickly, pulling your gown down to hide yourself, and huffed, eyes glaring up at Commander Ren as the door slid locked-closed behind him. He didn't seem bothered by your indecency, but then again, you weren't able to truly read his emotion. 

Your eyes darted around the room, coming back to rest on Commander Ren. The room was the one you had been brought to prior, your first meeting with him. You had two working legs this time, and refused to go down without a fight. Your fists clenched at your sides, and you could have swore his chest huffed in a chuckle. 

Fuck this. You weren't going to be manhandled like this- you did nothing wrong. If anything, you were an innocent bystander! You bit your tongue; you did try to steal their ship. But they were the ones raiding your ship, or what was left of it.

"Make no mistake, the fact that we haven't yet disposed of you does not guarantee your life." The Commander took a step forward, and you took four large steps back. Your eyes darted around the room, and you ran to the other side of the table, placing as much space between you and this monster.

"I'm not who you think I am. You're the one making a fucking mistake." You spit, gripping onto one of the leather chairs. With a flick of his hand, the table, and half of the chairs were thrown sideways, parting the room to where there was nothing between the two of you. You gasped, and backed up farther, even though he made no further approach.

"That mouth of yours is going to be the premature death of you." The voice was flat, but you could tell he was quickly becoming tired of your attitude. You scoffed. 

"Your lies will not help you, here, girl." The took a stride forward, slowly raising his hand until you began to feel the familiar, threatening pressure on your throat. 

"I'm. Not. Fucking. Lying." You said through gritted teeth. With his other hand, he positioned it closer to your forehead, pressing. The string within your chest was vibrating, echoing and buzzing within your chest cavity, and a stark pressure, like a building storm, pressed firmly between your temples. 

But that was it. 

It was if a sturdy wall lay strong between your skull and the pressure. It remained constant, prodding. A steady, strong, angry, pushing pressure. Curiosity overcame you, and you mentally shoved back. 

His hand was pushed just hard enough to swing downwards and behind him, and his helmet snapped up to stare at you, shoulders heaving as he shifted back to square up to you.

'Did..... did I just-? '

In a sudden movement he was upon you, gripping your throat physically, this time, shoving you back to the wall behind you Your hands went up to his, trying to loosen his grip, but to no avail.

"You WILL stop fucking resisting me." At this point he was seething, his helmet mere inches from yours as you struggled under his hold. 

"I'm not....doing....anything.... please. " you managed through strained voice- his grasp was not faltering, and you were pressed further back into the wall, the back of your head hitting as you struggled more.

"I am growing tired of these games." He seethed. By now he was shaking, restraining himself- if he choked you any harder you'd be dead with a broken neck. Your hands met purchase in the space between his thumbs, and you yanked down, desperate to free your throat, lungs burning.

He reluctantly loosened his grip, only slightly. It left you coughing and sputtering, your chest heaving. He spoke over your incessant coughs. 

"We tracked your ship's location. Your distress calls only helped to pinpoint to the coordinates." The leather gloves tightened ever so slightly. "And why do you think we were tracking your ship, little girl?" He was taunting you now, assuming that you knew what the hell he was talking about. You made a move to shake your head, 'no.' 

"Your ship had been found to be housing a very important artifact that belongs to us." He paused for a beat. "That artifact that was stolen from our base. " You tried to make sense of what he was saying. Your hands still held on to his, trying to pry more breathing room. As much as you could recall, you had never once stolen from a First Order base. Never. Unless this so called artifact was housed on a ship that you DID raid for parts, but gods not a First Order base. You knew better than to chance that.... What artifact was he speaking of? There was no out of the ordinary material or object that you had come across. 

"If I had... accidentally taken anything... I- I apologize. I was not aware of its... owners. I have never raided a First Order ship, and, and I absolutely would never even think of it." You said, quietly, trying to appeal to him, your voice still straining. When his helmet didn't shift or budge, you added in; "Sincerely, sir. "

The formalities burned your tongue.

When he spoke next, it was a low growl.

"I don't believe you." His helmet was still inches from yours, and his grip wasn't faltering.

"I-"

Before you could continue your case, one of his boots shifted, parting your legs as he stepped closer, your chests touching. Your breath hitched as he did so, feeling a betraying warmth in your lower stomach. 

"You are putting up a mental block- I can't access your thoughts. You're hiding something. " He interrupted, keeping his broad hips close to yours, making sure your legs stayed spread. Your mind fluttered as you sensed his... lust? You tried to shake your mind from the thoughts of what he could do to you. You stood no chance of fighting him off in a game of strength- he would overpower you quickly. You had no advantage here, and tried to talk your way to safety, as it seemed he was changing his approach.

"I'm...I'm not doing it on purpose, Commander." Your voice felt smaller than ever, as he turned your head to the side, giving him access to the fragile skin under your jawline, next to your jugular. The sensitive area was washed in goosebumps, shivers trailing down your spine and pooling in a wetness between your legs. 

You silently cursed your traitor body. 

He must have sensed your slight arousal, as his free hand traced the edge of your stomach and down your hips. 

"Hm." He said, and you could feel it was followed by a hidden smirk. 

Your eyes grew wider as he paused at the bottom hem of your gown. It felt like a threat as he began to lift the thin fabric up-

"I- I don't know what artifact you are speaking of, sir. Please- I. I don't know- I didn't know. " You scrambled to form a cohesive sentence and his hand stopped. "I wouldn't have stolen from you- but the ships I had scavenged..." You paused, trying to recollect. You hope he wouldn't take this as you trying to come up with a lie." ...It, it was an old Resistance ship. It might have housed the object you're talking about, but I-"

"Perhaps." He paused for a moment. "But that doesn't explain your resistance to my mental probing." His hand stayed where it was... ever threatening. 

"Sir, I swear to you- I am not purposely resisting. Why would I? It would be so much easier if you could simply see into my thoughts and see that I AM telling the truth." You spoke as quickly as you could, stumbling over your words to try and appeal to him. 

He seemed to think it over, but you were sure he wasn't going to let you go. You had gotten yourself into a fucking cesspool of trouble, and it didn't seem you would be getting out of it any time soon. 

All because you fucking scavenged a Resistance ship. 

His helmet leaned down next to your ear.

"I WILL get into that mind of yours, girl." The words were uttered with angry promise, and you nearly fainted from relief as he removed his hands, placing them folded behind his back. Without turning his gaze from you, he called for a guard. 

At his command, two Stormtroopers came in through the sliding door, blasters held at their chest. They waited for instruction, not bothering to glance at you.

"Bring her to my chambers." Commander Ren's voice was firm, and held with a heavy finality.

No.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! :)  
> I hope you have enjoyed reading so far. Comments are greatly appreciated! Please leave your thoughts!


	10. Red

Unceremoniously, you were 'escorted' out of the conference room, mainly dragged. Your struggles were obviously in vain, and quickly you began to shift and accept your fate. You weren't sure where the Commander was- he had stayed behind. The halls were mechanical and tight with a smothering sense of rigidity. 

The two Troopers kept a hold on your shoulders as you continued. Gods, where was this guy's chamber? You doubted he actually meant his personal quarters.... surely he meant, a torture chamber? ....Right?

You were directed through a doorway, and suddenly was met with a small gathering of various ranked officers and staff. They took no notice of you- you'd guessed that prisoner escorts were commonplace, here. 

You started to linger, but was firmly tugged onward. Just as you looked back, a bright flash of flame orange caught your eye. The man turned around, icy eyes directly finding you. General Hux. A momentary pause, as he looked you up and down, and then turned with his nose in the air to continue ordering others around.

You felt a tightening in your chest, unlike anything you had felt in quite some time. For nearly a year, you were isolated. Only stuck with your own thoughts as company. You hadn't been around a large group of people since.... well, you couldn't exactly place a time frame. Quite a while. Seeing these shuffling faces... their paths and interactions... you felt extremely overwhelmed. 

As you turned back to face the direction you were being taken, you didn't see the piercing eyes of the red haired general refocusing on you, following you intently as you left the area. 

_____

Just as you felt your leg begin to complain of the lengthy walk, you were faced with a solid black door. And you didn't have to be told that this was your destination. 

Fuck.

Within a breath, the doors were opened with a key-code by one of the Troopers, and the thought of running crossed your mind. There'd be no use- you were in no position to try your escape right now. You were reminded of how absolutely vulnerable you were when the chill of the unlit room seeped through your hospital gown. 

You were still in a fucking hospital gown.

The lights were flicked on, bathing the dark room in a red tinted light. From what you could tell, this was no torture chamber. You weren't sure exactly if that was supposed to be a good thing or not...

Black leather furniture- a couch, an arm chair, a small coffee table- was of the few minimal decorations that you could see, but then...

Your stomach dropped, and you swallowed heavy.

In the farthest corner, lay a large bed, stark black sheets, pillows, frame- dark as night and it looked just as sinful. 

Taking a step back, you were met with a small shove. The sight of the bedsheets completely took your mind- you had forgotten about the Troopers standing guard behind you.

When you turned to face them, you were confused to see only one.

You positioned yourself farther away from the white-suited solider. You felt stuck, between a rock and a hard place, caught between this solider ready to kill, and the taunting bed behind you. Maybe this was a torture chamber...

"So..." You began, shifting nervously. The silence was deafening- you could have heard a pin drop.... or your own heartbeats across the room. The Trooper didn't respond, still standing statuesque by the only apparent exit. 

"Did you get the short end of the stick today?" You tried to make small talk, trying to see if this Soldier had any rebellious feelings- perhaps you could appeal to him enough for him to turn a blind eye as you escaped....

He didn't respond. 

Instead, you started fidgeting with the hem of your gown, lifting it to where one side gathered just below your panty line. 

He didn't move.

"I'm sure you're sick of getting the shitty job, huh?" You started to take a step closer. "A trained solider. Stuck babysitting me?" 

He didn't budge. He remained with this back to the metal door, blaster at the hilt. 

A step closer, and you were slightly reminded of your still-healing wound. 'Desperate times,' you reminded yourself, willing your blushing embarrassment away. 

"Do not come any closer." The mechanical voice erupted like an alarm-clock, but he shifted only slightly. You flinched at the loud order, but didn't stop your approach.

"You must have so much more important tasks to be doing, sir...." You couldn't believe your own voice with your own ears, but you even tried batting your eyelashes.

When he didn't move, you exhaled through your nose, and decided to press your luck even further. Another step closer, letting the too-big hospital gown slip over one of your shoulders, dipping dangerously low below your collar bone. 

You heard a quiet, but heavy breath in the helmet, and couldn't help but smirk. 

"I'm sure if we can..." You brought a hand up to touch his forearm, and he shifted under your touch. You ran your tongue along your top lip, only to slowly slink it back into your mouth, pausing over your front teeth. You were too focused on your, ahem. Task at hand, that you didn't notice the ever-growing-familiar tug of the string within your sternum. "...figure out some sort of compromise-"

The door whisked open behind the solider, and a very large, very smoldering Commander stood towering in the doorway. You nearly jumped out of your skin, stumbling backwards as if you had just been shot. After regaining your footing, you quickly moved behind a piece of furniture for protection of what was going to come.

The solider appeared unmoving and at attention, but you could've swore you saw a slight shiver in his hand that held the blaster. 

"Leave." It was a low near-growl from the Commander, who didn't bother to glance at the solider, and the Stormtrooper left as quickly as he could. Lucky bastard....

The cloaked Commander took a cool step inside the door way, letting the door slide quickly behind him. Your hands gripped the leather armchair you were positioned behind. 

"You will let me in to your thoughts." The dark figure loomed like a heavy handed shadow, but he didn't move. "You will submit to me." You barely heard him over your heart beat, but you scoffed at the word, 'submit.' 

"I'm not...some fucking animal." You said sternly. He made a step closer to your position, and you readied yourself to run, but he rose his hand and you froze. 

You felt the pressure in your forehead- the string, swirling around your chest cavity like a ribbon in a storm. You also felt the strength of the wall within your mind, and how it refused to bend to the invasive hand. 

"It doesn't make sense." He said to himself, hissing, throwing his hand to his side. You tilted your head sideways. 

"I promise you, I am not doing-"

"Silence!" A leather-gloved hand was raised and your lips were closed. You instead watched him with genuine curiousness. What the fuck is going on? He started pacing, fists clenched so hard the leather squeaked. You didn't feel the force on your lips anymore, but decided to remain quiet. 

He continued his pacing like a feral creature, and you knew it was best not to agitate rabid animals. You took a deep breath, quietly. Trying to settle your chest.

"That artifact that was found in your possession... perhaps you truly didn't know the importance of it. You say you were in the wrong place at wrong time as far as that is concerned. But you won't let me in to confirm this. I can only assume you are hiding that truth from me, as well as many others. I just don't UNDERSTAND! " He half snarled, and before you could defend yourself, he pulled out an unlit lightsaber, facing the hilt towards you. 

"Let me in." He said, lowly, taking a step forward. Just as you were about to dart for safety, his free hand was brought up, rendering you motionless.

You couldn't move. But thank the gods your mouth wasn't frozen because you were about to beg for your life.

"Please-" 

Suddenly, the saber was lit up in an angry red, and sliced through the coffee table in front of you like butter. You yelped, but instead closed your eyes, still unable to move. 

A heat flooded the front of your face, stinging like hot water, and your eyes shot open to the tip of the angry saber, crackling mere inches from your nose. Tears welled up in your eyes. You weren't sure if they were from the hotness of the deadly weapon, or fear as they began spilling over. 

"Do NOT lie to me." He growled, seething. You could see the slight shake in his hand, the one that kept you frozen, and felt your entire body quaking in fear, the tight string in your chest now flapping and tearing wildly like a flag in a storm. He was barely keeping his composure and you could see him cracking. 

"Are you purposefully resisting me?" He asked, gravely serious. Your eyes focused on the helmet in front of you, the rabid weapon reflecting scarlet off of its chrome and black, and you spoke as quickly as you could manage. 

"No." 

"How can I believe you?" You didn't feel this question was rhetorical, even thought it was asked so quietly you wondered if it was meant to be, or perhaps it was a question he was asking himself. You racked your brain for an answer that might please him, but ultimately felt like a broken record- you had tried telling him countless times, now. 

Instead, you felt the next words leave your mouth.

"You'll have to trust me."


	11. Wash

The saber remained crackling and spitting, still aimed directly between your eyes. You had been close to death before, but this.... this glowing, deadly weapon held a promise of death like no other. 

"Trust you?" He faltered, half scoffing. Your eyes flicked up, unmoving on his helmet, searching for a morsel of humanity within him. You couldn't see any. The question was rhetorical, and you didn't reply. You couldn't find your voice.

"Trust the girl who tried stealing my fucking ship? Who had in her possession one of the most important artifacts to the First Order? Who just tried to escape from my Med Bay?" 

Your mouth remained closed, and you couldn't bring yourself to even blink, eyes locked and cross-eyed on the burning glow that still threatened your life. 

"And above it all..." His hand gripped the handle of the saber tighter, as he rotated his wrist to get a stronger grip, "the girl who continues to resist me...."

You were quivering at this point, but tightly closed your eyes, hoping it would at least be a quick death. As a last ditch effort, you screamed in your mind, "PLEASE!!!!", and begged that you could somehow project the echo of it in your skull into his own.

The heat left your face. Your eyes opened, to the cloaked figure, with a now, unlit saber at his side. His shoulders were heaving out of... surprise?

"How did you do that." He breathed, his voice uneven. You stalled. He DID hear me scream....

"I... I don't know." You shivered, and the thread within your chest felt like it had never before, causing you to glance down as if there were truly a string within you. It felt as if someone had the end of it, and was gently tugging....as if testing its strength. 

"I feel it too." 

You snapped your head up to the Commander, who was intently focused on you. He began to step towards you, and as much as you wanted to find safety, you found your body still immobile. 

He began circling you, slowly. Like a shark to a wounded, drowning animal. "I do not know who you are." A leather hand ran along your shoulder, pulling your hair to the side, exposing your neck again. "But none of this makes sense to me. You should not be able to do what you are doing right now." 

You didn't reply, carefully following his movements with your eyes, as if he was a predator. He seemed just as deadly. 

"What am I doing?" You breathed, barely audible.

A heavy sigh, and he continued, ignoring your question. "There is a connection between you and I. I'm not sure if it is the Artifact's effect after being in your possession for so long, but-" He was behind you now, a hand still on your shoulder. Warning you. "-regardless. You are of great interest... to the First Order." 

Your spine chilled.

"I am of no value-"

"Your power to resist me says otherwise." His voice nearly purred, right next to your ear. You shuttered, realizing that you were no longer frozen rigid from The Force, but, instead, from your own fear. 

When you didn't respond, he continued, but he seemed to be reflecting, speaking to himself. "The Artifact is very ancient and omnipotent- simply being in close contact with it could have allowed your mind to absorb some of its power-it's energy. There is no other explanation. But you- you're nobody. A thief, a scavenger. How could your mind have been able to obtain this residual energy?" 

You swallowed, as he moved from behind you, slinking his way to directly face you. 

"Regardless, and luckily for you..." He slowly began to bring his hand up to your chin, but you jerked your head away. "...you are no longer in its presence." 

"I don't understand." You said, your head still turned, but your eyes maintained their glare. You still had no inkling as to what this so-called artifact was, or even what it looked like. You didn't remember finding anything special in your last scavenging missions. 

"What little power you have absorbed will dissipate. This mental wall you have been able to create-" with this, his large hand grabbed your temples, his palm spread over your forehead, and you yelped as he jerked your head around to face him again. "-it will eventually crumble . And you will submit to me." 

You swallowed hard, and after an agonizing few moments, he released you. 

"Go." He motioned his head towards an open door in the far corner, opposite of the main one. You faltered... he was... letting you go? You glanced at him, to see if he was testing you, but he paid you no attention as he made his way to the end of the living area.

After a brief second, you gathered your thoughts, you took off, sprinting as fast as your legs could carry you to the new doorway, not even questioning why he suddenly changed his mind to release yo-

A... bathroom? What?!

Matte Black tile laid in precise quadrants, showcasing a walk in shower, as well as a chrome clawfoot tub across the room. No windows. You glanced around the room, searching for an exit (surely he meant to leave, right? Not go to the fucking bathroom?) but ultimately found nothing. A frameless mirror, and a small cabinet, which held........ nothing. Everything was ice-cold minimal, no touch of life. 

Perhaps you misunderstood him... surely he was directing you to the exit, right? Without questioning it further, you pushed yourself off of the door frame and bolted towards the door you initially were brought through, only to slam your hand on the keypad: LOCKED. 

"You're not leaving." A dark voice commanded, and you spun on your heels to see him removing his hooded cloak and setting it onto a dresser. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He seemed to notice this, but didn't turn to you with his answer. "Go wash yourself. You smell like the fucking Med Bay." 

Suddenly, you were incredibly self-conscious and aware of your state- you couldn't remember the last time you had showered, and felt dirty all over, especially after being manhandled the past few days. You felt a rush of blood to your face, but you didn't know how to respond. You shifted, eyeing his casualness, leery of his intentions. 

"You will not be bothered." He said with a finality, and turned towards a small kitchenette. You took this as his admission as , 'don't flatter yourself; I'm not going to try to fuck you in there,' and slowly tiptoed, still barefoot, back to the washroom. With a hand to the keypad inside, it (thankfully) closed shut, ensuring some privacy. 

You didn't have to be told that the small comfort of the door shutting, separating you from the Commander, was anything to be taken too seriously- if he really wanted to fucking come in here, he would. 

You shook the thought from your head, and decided to take up his offer. Besides, it was the only real privacy that you had experienced since being caught days prior. You nearly peeled the gown from your shoulders, feeling a relief as the cold air hit your bare skin. Immediate goosebumps. 

You stood, facing both the shining, enormous tub, and the sleek, black-tiled shower. It had been almost a year since you had the luxury of hot water, and was nearly drooling at the promise of it. You decided quickly on the shower, as it would be the lesser of the two to put you in a vulnerable position. At least you'd be standing if he decided to come in, you'd have a better chance of fighting him off. 

Even with this prey-like mindset taking over the forefront of your thoughts, you found a microscopic sense of relaxation as the water fell heavy and hot from the shower-head on the ceiling above. 

There were two, unlabeled bottles of what you assumed was soap of some sort, and you took no shortcuts in lathering yourself in it. It smelled of rotting pine wood, spice, and musk, in the best of ways. Like a forest after rain. 

Even though the tile beneath your feet was black, you could tell through the murky water spinning down into the drain just how dirty you were. 

After a while, you glanced down at your leg. Angry, deep, marks were healing into raised scars, and you felt your face fall. The teeth of the trap clamped down fast and deep- you should have expected some intense scarring, and cursed yourself for thinking differently. 

There were more important things at hand. 

You turned the dial, ending the steady stream of scalding hot water. 

Like finding a way out of this fucking place.


	12. Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POSSIBLE E.D./ANOREXIA TRIGGER within just the first paragraph. (Detailed physical description of a thin body.)

POSSIBLE E.D./ANOREXIA TRIGGER within just the first paragraph. (Detailed physical description of a thin body.) 

** TW

Droplets of water fell through your hair and onto your lower back as you stared into the foggy mirror before you. You couldn't help it- the flash of your dull skin caught your eye in the reflection. Even with the thorough scrub and hot water of the shower, you still looked....well, like shit. Your hair, although wet, had grown thinner than you were used to. Your collarbones protruded more, and your waist was smaller, iliac crests threatening to cut through. Stretching, reaching your arms up and over in an arch, revealed ribs under your thin skin. Sharper cheek bones, thinner around the temples, and even your eyes looked more sunken in, and the color of your irises less lifeless than you had last remembered. Yeish. You hadn't thought that the time spent stranded on the planet NI would have affected your physical body so much. But it made sense. Your mind, and your body had went into survival mode, and it used all it could as fuel to keep you alive. You wanted to thank your body, but at the same time.... you felt a little ashamed at how frail and thin you looked.

**TW end

You fully felt that frailness. And vulnerability. Especially knowing the monster was lurking just outside the door...

You wrapped the towel around your body, tightly, unsure if exiting the false safety of the washroom was the best move. You ran the conversations you had with the commander thus far through your head like a washing machine, wringing each word and aspect of the dialogues for an inkling of hope that you'd get out of this alive. 

He has said you were of great interest to the First Order. You didn't feel that way, but you had also not experienced this shift in your mental- you had, unbeknownst to you, created a safety wall that kept him from accessing your thoughts. Apparently, as you gauged by his reactions, this was unheard of. When you mentally spoke to him, screaming and begging for him to stop, he heard you. How was that possible? 

You weren't purposely building or holding up that wall within- so how were you doing this? When you mentally shoved his hand away from you, it physically moved him away. You weren't sure if this was something you could recreate- hell, how could you? You didn't even know how you were doing any of this! But perhaps he was right- perhaps this enigmatic artifact he spoke of really did emit some of it's powers into you. But if that is true, then it means that these powers that were ultimately keeping you from being killed were going to slowly fade. 

Your hair was growing cold as it dripped dry, and you weren't sure how much longer you could stall your inevitable fate in the false safety here in the washroom. You would have to face him, again, and could only feel that he would no doubt be growing more and more impatient. 

Thinking you wouldn't be able to feel any less vulnerable in the dirtied hospital gown that lay on the tile floor at your feet, you wrapped the towel tighter, and secured your hands folded beneath your arms as a means of self soothing. 

"Just play his game," you told yourself in a breath. "Play his game long enough to survive until you can escape..." 

Your hand slowly moved to the touch pad as you face the grey door, and held your breath as it quickly slid open. 

Your eyes were wide, half expecting him to be upon you immediately- but were pleasantly shocked to find the room in front of you... dimly lit, and vastly empty- aside from the coldly-designed furniture.

You stilled, listening, but heard nothing. 

Was he gone?

Surely you weren't that lucky. 

You carefully stepped out, scouring the living room ahead of you, and noticed the coffee table and armchair that had been sliced through with the red saber had been removed and cleaned up after. You didn't know how long you had been in the shower, but it must have been quite a while if that giant mess had already been cleared. 

You stepped forward to see clearer in the dim, quiet atmosphere, to see a small folded article of clothing on the edge of the leather couch. You held it up by the collar- a soft, solid black t-shirt dress, the length seeming to reach mid calf. Appreciative of something other than your hospital gown, you let the towel fall around you to pile on the floor at your feet, and the dense air hit your clean skin, your nipples perking from the coolness. You lifted the dress over your head, pulling it down and flattening it over your form with your hands.

You heard a soft exhale to your far left, like wind through a window, and you jumped with a gasp. 

The room was so dark you could barely make him out. A silhouetted figure sat across the room in a low reclining arm chair, legs parted wide, revealing familiar black boots. Smoke billowed above his head. You couldn't see his face (you didn't need to, to know who it was), only his black shadowed form, and the burning glow of a lit cigarette around where his mouth should be. It brightened like a star with a heavy inhale. 

...His mouth- wait.

...his... hair?

His helmet was off.


	13. Sheets

You didn't move, suddenly very aware that you were, just moments ago, completely stark naked and in his full view. 

The cigarette glistened again with a heavy inhale, before it was brought down to the arm of the chair, burning angrily. 

"If I had expected more of you, I might have been offended by your... indecency in my presence." A low baritone, clear as night, came from his shadowed form, and you thanked the gods for the dim light- your cheeks were scarlet. His voice was completely natural, he sounded like a normal man. This took you by surprise... but, it made sense. Men were often the worst kind of monsters. 

"I didn't know you were in here, sir." You said quietly, hating the submissiveness in your tone. Instead, you found your mantra through gritted teeth. 

Play his game. 

Play his game.

Play. His. Game. 

"Either you are an absolutely ignorant..."The glow of the cigarette was killed into an ashtray on a side table nearest the chair with a hiss, "...or just hopelessly foolish." 

"I apologize." You said, barely audible, and suddenly very aware of your hands, nervously wringing them. He stood from his chair, his ginormous silhouette still encased in shadowed velvet, and took a step forward, the tips of his boots revealed in the light. Your breath hitched as you tried to steady yourself. Why were you so affected by him?

"Do you think teasing me is going to save you? Stripping in front of me? " His voice was deep, sharp, and stung you deep.

"Excuse me?!" You faltered, sputtering. "Absolutely not, I'm not-"

"I will not be seduced." He said, raising the volume of his voice slightly, cutting you off quickly. You were too offended to notice he didn't use the Force to silence you. "How long we let you live is not something that can be bargained for with your... body." He scoffed before continuing. "These are my chambers. Expect me to be here. Always. "

You bit the inside of your cheeks to pinch back the sting in your eyes. You had never been spoken to like this before. Regardless, you nodded. Lowering your gaze. You could feel yourself shaking from holding back your tongue.

He didn't move for a moment, no doubt assessing you, absorbing your slight submissiveness. In a stealthy movement, he moved to the small kitchen area, suddenly his back to you. You didn't catch his face just yet, but instead found yourself astounded at his dark, raven hair. Monsters have hair, too, you guessed. It caught in the dim light, dark and sinful like licorice. It was wavy, slightly curly, falling to his shoulders. Wild and unpredictable. How fitting. 

You remained where you were, watching his hand find a glass and a bottle of blood red wine. He began to pour an almost-full glass, before turning to directly face you. 

You tried to maintain an emotionless expression, but that was all but slapped off of you as you felt a breath leave you.

He was no monster. 

Deep brown, almost onyx eyes bore into yours, pinning you like needles. A strong, Greek nose led down to full lips, pressed into an un-approving grimace. Pale, snowy skin dotted with freckles, framed by ebony. Heavy eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his expression seemed unmoving. 

His dark eyes, however. They were scanning you. Trying to read your reaction to his appearance. 

You were sure you were perfectly easy to read in this case- by gods, he was handsome. You had created a disfigured, ugly being that had to hide his horrendous face under that helmet. But this.... this was beyond you. You quickly gathered yourself, remembering that this man, literally just moments ago, reminded you that your life was limited, here. 

The string that lay within your chest awakened, as if being moved by a warm breeze, sending deep vibrations in wake through your limbs. 

His large hands, pale and firm, grasped the delicate neck of the wine glass. It seemed with a shift of his fingers he could easily shatter it in half, even without the Force. Something fell across his gaze, and after a moment he broke eye-contact, bringing the thin glass to his lips. 

You swallowed, watching the crimson liquid seep through his lips as he pushed himself off the counter, striding over to you. You almost wished that he would put that damned helmet back on- he was somehow even more intimidating without it. You tensed, expecting the worst. But instead, he found a seat on the leather couch, pulling a cigarette out of a front pocket and placing it between his lips, letting it hang lowly as he adjusted himself. He sent a sharp glare sideways towards you. 

"I... I didn't know you smoked, Commander." You spoke, a pathetic attempt to break the heavy silence. You didn't dare ask for one, but Gods alive, you'd kill for a hit of that nicotine. Something to calm your nerves.

He didn't respond, casually flicking his hand over the end of the cigarette, suddenly lighting it. A deep drag, the tip glowing bright orange. He held it in his lungs, within his impossibly large chest, and turned to face you as he slowly exhaled through his nostrils, smoke billowing out in smoky waterfalls. He sucked in air and smoke quickly through his mouth, inhaling from the flumes pouring out his nose.

"You will be staying in here. Clearly, you need to be kept an eye on." He took another sip, his hand holding both the glass and the cigarette. You had glanced around the room enough to see only one bed.

"I don't-"

"Again." He said sharply, irritated. "This is not a fucking negotiation." 

You quietened, biting your tongue. Hard enough to taste blood. 

He stood suddenly, aggressively, still holding his substances. "Is there a problem?" You knew this was rhetorical, and felt there was no need to argue. But your ever-bruising pride was turning quickly into anger.

"I will not sleep with you." You said, trying not to make your brewing fury bubble over. You had to pick your fights, and you felt validated with this one. 

He scoffed, glancing up and down at you. It hurt. "You will not be bothered."

Before you could protest, he raised a hand and strode to the kitchenette to refill his glass. "You will sleep in the bed. Alone." He made sure to emphasize the last word. You gulped, but nodded. Somewhat satisfied with this response. He motioned to the couch, signifying that is where he will be. You felt a blush- the idea of sleeping in his bed, even if it were alone, was making you sweat.

"Go- get some rest." You glanced up at him. His tone was cold, but the somewhat thoughtful gesture threw you off. 

He glared at you from under furrowed brow, finishing off his wine and taking a final inhale, ending the life of the cigarette.

"Tomorrow we begin."

You didn't want to know what that meant, nor did you press this any further, and instead slowly convinced your legs to carry you to the deep , sinful-velvet bed. It felt... awkward. Running a hand over the comforters, you realized you had never had such expensive, luxurious sheets to sleep in, none the less a bed bigger than a small bunk. This was huge- enough to fit four men the size of The Commander. Carefully, as if the fine threads may rip at your ugly touch like wet paper, you pulled the sheets back just enough at the corner, and glanced back at him. 

He sat on the couch, his back to you, silent as death, raven hair falling just so, smoke swirling above his head. 

The lights were already dim, and as you slid yourself between the cool, dark sheets, you somehow felt your eyes grow heavy. How did your body feel at ease enough to feel sleepy- especially when your captor sat happily smoking on the other side of the room?

You fought sleep as long as you could, laying between the heavy comforter, the scent of oak and mint interwoven between the threads. The darkness of the room, the softness of the mattress, the fineness of the threads- all these things that your body hadn't experienced in so, so so long, and the hum of the string within your chest- all contributed to your heavy eyes. You kept your gaze on the back of his head, watching the twirls of smoke dance up to the ceiling, in an odd way to count sheep to fall asleep.

Before long, you were too exhausted to stay alert and awake. You were out.

Completely at his mercy.


	14. Begin

It was the best sleep of your life. You could have laughed at the irony- a deadly predator lurked just feet from your slumber, yet your body betrayed you and fell into a deep state of rest. When you woke, the windowless room was just as dim, the scarlet glow seeping into everything it could touch. It didn't take but a moment to realize that, you were still no where near alone. 

Your eyes, still somewhat heavy, refused to cooperate. With the sound of footsteps, however, your adrenaline quickly urged them to open and take in the threat that was approaching. 

It wasn't who you expected. 

General Hux stood before you, standing within the doorway. Just as you met his gaze, he stiffened. His red hair was just as fiery, near glowing in the red light, each strand slicked back into strict order. He looked even more menacing in this lighting. His eyes, usually bright in florescent light, were a deep navy, dark like an angry sea during a storm. 

With this sudden acknowledgment of his presence, you quickly shuffled, throwing the covers off to stand by the side of the bed, in stance and ready for anything. 

"I see your leg is healed." He said dryly. It felt like an insult, like he was disappointed. You didn't respond. 

He continued to hold you with his gaze, and just as you felt your cheeks burn with his stare, a dark shadow emerged from the washroom. You turned quickly, breaking eye contact. 

Commander Ren, in his usual dark attire. Helmet and all.

When you turned back to General Hux, you felt a chill as you see that he had not broken the gaze whatsoever. You hated it- but you looked down, averting your eyes. You could smell the judgement oozing from him, and it made you nervous. 

"Is it ready?" The Commander's modulated voice broke the silence, directing the ominous question to the red head. 

"Yes." The answer was short, sharp- but held much weight. You turned to see him reply, and his cold gaze bore into you still. Even The Commander seemed to take note, the helmet turned slightly.

Watching him, watching you. 

\------------------------------

You were instructed to follow the two leaders. Not like you had much choice- four Troopers escorting you on either side. The hallways were just as cold and menacing as you remembered. Your leg barely ached- still somewhat sore, as you followed behind them. There was no need to run, or attempt escape. It was pointless in this moment, and the effort would be futile.

Play his game, make a dash for it when the right moment comes. 

The two men, striding angrily in front of you, felt as bitter as lemon fruit. They seemed tense, and full of animosity. They seemed to fucking hate one another, and there was a bit of push and pull between their ranks. You took a mental note, sensing that this rivalry might prove to be beneficial to you. 

Soon, you approached a doorway, the heavy door sliding to the will of the Commander and Hux. As you cautiously followed behind, you gathered that this was no commonplace room. The ceilings were much higher than any room you had ever been in. Harsh florescent lights beamed down towards the center, shadows circling around the perimeter. It felt like an amphitheater, but without seating. Like a hollow, metallic cave.

The two men continued into the center- Hux's hands folded neatly behind his back, the Commander's clenched rigidly at his sides. You hadn't realized you had stopped in your tracks until were roughly shoved forward with the barrel of a blaster by one of the Troopers that stood sharp behind you. "Keep moving." 

You had never felt smaller in your entire life. Literally, and physically. The room echoed with every heavy step as you continued to follow after the angry men. 

Suddenly, Hux stopped, turning to face you, as did Commander Ren. 

You took this as a hint, and stopped quickly in your tracks, keeping a safe distance of several good strides. Was this yet another means of torture? Or were they going to kill you here and now?

Before you could think any further, The Commander's hand flew outstretched, and you were raised up by your throat, leaving bare feet kicking and barely brushing the cold floor. Your hands flew to your throat, grasping at nothingness as you continued to choke. You felt your face growing numb.

"Go ahead. Stop me." The deep voice came through, barely audible above your gasps for air. You didn't register what he had said, your body in full survival mode as you continued to sputter.

"Stop. Me." The Commander's voice was louder this time, angrier, but his grip slightly faltered- just enough for you to suck in a gasp of oxygen. Your eyes squeezed shut- what the fuck is he talking about? Was this one of his sick games? If he kept this up much longer, you'd be dead. And then you noticed it.... the pressure on your frontal lobe. The steady probing. The breathing onto the ember, the tapping on your wall- 

"Fucking. Stop. Me." By now he was in a full roar, the grip just as violent and tight on your windpipe. Gritting your teeth, you pushed back on the steady pressure as hard as you could, like a rabid dog pulling against a tight chain. 

And suddenly, that chain broke. 

The Commander was shoved backwards, his raised hand had flown backwards to his side, as he staggered only slightly. As his hand was pushed away, you were released, falling to your knees. As you greedily inhaled air into your starved lungs, it burned like flames. Your hand remained on your throat, swallowing to taste a hint of blood. You had remembered the first time you had done this, but you didn't think this was anything you could ever harness. It didn't make sense- it had to be all within your mind. This all but proved the Commander's point.... whatever artifact this was, that you had inadvertently had contact with, was affecting you. 

By the time you caught your breath, your lungs were silent enough to focus on the thread within your chest. It was humming.

"There. You've seen it with your own eyes, now." The Commander spoke sharply, aimed towards the General. You barely heard him, still on your knees, recovering. You glanced up, sweat dripping down your face. 

Hux was glaring at you, a soured expression fixed on his face. He didn't answer the Commander. 

You sat back on your heels, wiping sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. 

Just play his game, you reminded yourself, sighing heavily. Play his game until you can get out of here. 

Just as you began to stand, your legs were swiped out from under you, sending you face down onto the floor. You shifted, finding yourself rendered immobile once more. You struggled against the force, trying desperately to lift yourself up, but unable. Your eyes rolled up to see the familiar outstretched gloved hand, the red head general looking at you intently, the helmet turned facing you.

The pressure in the forefront of your brain grew slowly, this time. 

They were watching. Waiting. 

Your head was beginning to throb, headache coming in waves like pulsations. Your pushback this time was weaker than the last, but it put a quiver in the pressure. Briefly. 

'Gods be damned, they're going to fucking fry my brain,' you thought. It felt like a toothache in your brain as the pressure grew again. It hurt. It translated the Commander's lack of patience, and it was obvious you were not reacting nearly as fast as he wanted you to. 

You were fucking tired. Your body was tired, your spirit was fucking tired. 

The pressure rose to a sharpness, loud and piercing, slicing through your brain like an icepick. The wall within your mind stood strong as ever, but the Commander's demand was persistent. You couldn't fucking take it. You wanted to ignore it- to refuse to play his game. You felt like you were being trained like an animal- to react the way he wanted you to. He was testing you. And you didn't want to continue.

Instead, you solidified yourself behind your wall. Stern, safe. Blocking out the mental pain, you began to settle in, finding peace.

Suddenly. 

You felt the force at the back of your legs. At the bottom of the hem of your dress. And it was slowly rising up. Your eyes darted towards the Commander, his one hand still outstretched to hold you down. 

The other, slowly lifting upwards.

This was all you needed- the indecency, the futile struggle to break the hold and pull your t-shirt dress back down, the ever growing heat on your face- and that sour-sweet need to push was back. They were fucking teasing you, playing with you, like cat and mouse. You were being taken advantage of, being used for sport. You knew they didn't use these methods on male prisoners. Your stomach churned, legs shaking as the dress continued its rise.

This time, the push was fueled by more anger than you had mustered before. It was white hot and angry, and it felt like a running start as you shoved back hard. Just as you did, you saw The Commander loose his footing from the impact, stumbling backwards much harder than before, but not quite falling. He regained himself, chuckling slightly, and immediately looked to Hux, who had an amused expression across his face. 

The invisible force holding you down had been released, and you jumped to your feet, pulling your dress down. 

"I'm not here to fucking entertain you." You spit, indignant. They were playing with you, and you felt it. It was embarrassing to be so at someone's mercy. It seemed like this was their entire motive- to laugh and scoff at how your feeble attempts to protect yourself barely worked. 

They ignored you. "I am unsure of how long these powers will remain with her." The Commander spoke. Hux pursed his lips and paused before speaking. 

"Have you noticed a change in its strength?"

"No." 

"Interesting." 

"This cannot be permanent, correct?" 

"Absolutely not. It is not possible."

"Then when can we expect a decline?"

You felt anger begin to bubble inside, your chest heaving. They weren't paying attention to you whatsoever. They stood in their normal stance, turned slightly towards one another, discussing you as if you weren't even there. Their dismissal was a strong wind on a growing fire within you. Your fists clenched, and teeth grit. 

'I cannot be a complicit bystander any longer,' you thought, fingernails digging into your palms. The next words were yelled within your mind,'Fucking assholes.' 

At this, The Commander's helmet whipped towards you as if he heard your insult, mid conversation. You didn't flinch, but instead felt the wave build within you again. Like a tidal wave, it retreated, and suddenly, it came crashing down. You pushed hard, with the wave, and suddenly both Hux and the Commander were thrown backwards, their feet completely swept out from underneath them. 

Your face paled as they landed several feet away, with a hard fall. 

Oh, shit.


	15. Hold

Just as they landed, taken by surprise by your reaction, you felt a chill over your body. 

You didn't expect to have pushed them enough to throw them backwards, but you sure fucking did. 

Immediately, a helmeted face snapped up to glare at you, quickly regaining his footing. He had landed on his lower back, and caught himself slightly with his hands. Hux scoffed, standing up himself, flattening his suit and taking a hand to right his hair, a few strands having fallen out of line. 

The Commander's anger was nearly palpable, chest heaving as he quickly strode towards you. You took a step back, unsure if you should run or just accept your fate. Before you had a chance to make your decision, he had reached you in a few long strides, and immediately grabbed you by your upper arm, tugging you, forcing you to stumble backwards as he continued his pace forward.

"Commander!" 

You were facing Hux now, still being drug backwards. The glare from the red haired general fell upon you, eyebrows creased, but you couldn't read the expression- you were shaking from the promise of danger that kept a vice grip on your arm. 

"Commander, you-" He began again, growing smaller and smaller as you were taken closer to the exit door across the room. Suddenly, the toes of your still sore leg caught on the back of your other heel, and you stumbled, nearly falling onto your ass, but the heavy grip yanked you back up.

"I will not be disrespected." The modulated voice growled lowly towards you, gripping harder for more impact. He was barely containing his anger and you knew it was about to taken out on you. Just as you were about to reach the doorway, the doors already beginning to slide open, Hux yelled after you both again.

"Kylo Ren, I suggest you-" 

Kylo? His first name? You didn't have a second to muse over this before the heavy handed man who held you sternly spun around on his heels to face the general, his free hand outstretched.

Suddenly it was Hux at the receiving end of the Commander's fury, as he grasped at his throat, the invisible hold choking him. This action only solidified your assumption- The Commander was in charge, here. 

"Do not question my authority." Kylo's voice was low, threatening. Pausing for a beat, he released his hand, sending Hux gasping to his knees, before pulling you through the iron-locked doors, letting them slam closed behind the two of you.

"W-where are you taking me-"

"Quiet." 

You struggled to keep up, attempting to shift to where you were actually facing the direction you were being dragged, but his harsh grip didn't allow it. A door opened to your left, revealing the conference room you had unfortunately begun to grow familiar with, and you were shoved in. 

The shove was hard, and you stumbled, catching yourself on your knees and the heels of your palms. You twisted around to face him, scuffling backwards away from him as he continued to approach.

"You are continuing to try my patience." The door slid closed, locking behind him. He paused, lifting his helmet off with a hiss, setting it to the side. You kept crawling backwards, chest shivering, the thread within you feeling like white hot wire. 

You tried to gather yourself, trying to focus on pushing back as you had done before- hell, it had infuriated him, but perhaps it would give you more time to avoid what was ultimately coming. You couldn't focus, finding yourself literally backed into a wall.

"Please, I-"

"Enough. You would do it again if you could." He scoffed, his voice clear but laced with shaking rage. You stuttered- he wasn't wrong. 

You brought yourself up to a standing position still backed against a wall, bracing yourself for his retaliation. He continued his approach, and you winced, turning your head as he came to stand inches from you. 

His raven hair, slightly askew from the helmet, fell around his pale face, coal-black eyes glaring down at you- cold and predatory, like a shark's gaze. You felt your entire body quiver as he shifted even closer, your chests nearly touching, but the indignant feelings kept your anger relighting. The words fell from your mouth quickly,

"You were toying with me- how else was I supposed to react to that? You're being a fucking power hungry, controlling, fucking asshole-"

A heavy hand came across your cheek, stinging and sending your face to the side. The leather gloves hurt more than a bare hand, and you tried to readjust yourself. He fucking smacked you. You brought a hand to your face, trying to ease the sting. You had never been hit like this. Yes, you had your fair share of fights and punches, but a slap? That felt personal, and goddamn were you hot with embarrassment. You cursed your sharp, uncontrollable tongue as you looked up at him beneath your hooded glare. 

He didn't seem affected, in fact he seemed ready to do it again. You shifted, your hand still on your face, unsure of what to do. You were too afraid to move, and he seemed quite happy with that. You remained under his gaze, as he towered over you. 

Daring you to challenge him. 

You didn't take the bait. 

You instead, adverted your eyes, ultimately showing your slight submission. He was drinking it in, and you wanted to fucking scream. Instead, you bit down on your tongue, hard. Refusing to look at him. 

Instead, a gloved hand reached back up to your face, and you winced hard, preparing for another blow. But instead, it found it's place around your upper throat, just below your jaw line. 

But this time, it wasn't a vice grip. It wasn't choking you, it wasn't constricting your airways. 

Instead, it was gentle, dominating, just enough pressure to remind you who was in control. It felt even more dangerous, and you almost wished he would just snap your neck instead. Your throat hitched, and you felt a familiar warmth both in your chest, and between your legs. He seemed to sense this change, and he tilted your face sideways, studying you. 

You felt your rising pulse beat against his strong palm, and you prayed this would just be over. 

"Look at me." It was a command, and to avoid any more fury from him, you brought your eyesight up to his. Dark eyes sent a chill through you. His onyx irises were were emotionless- hard, dark, and lonely as empty space. You swallowed, feeling your throat expand to press against his leathered glove more. 

You cursed yourself, feeling his eyes scan yours. You wished you had just fucking died in the crash. It was beginning to sink in that you were not making it out of this alive. Your scavenging partner was most likely dead, and you envied them. Perhaps you had died, and this was simply your own personal hell. To be toyed with, to be tortured with demands and mind probing, and-

Suddenly, he moved closer towards you, shifting your face to where his face was next to yours, his lips caressing your right ear. You tensed, but his grip tightened only slightly. Reminding you to remain still. He hummed. 

"I can tell you're enjoying this. My hand around your throat." His low voice sent a shiver from your toes up through your spine to the back of your neck. Fuck. You felt the warmth pooling between your legs, and you instinctively closed them tighter. 

"No, I-"

His free hand was brought to your hip, snaking it's way to your lower back, and you were pulled closer in towards him. You whimpered, begging the gods to will him to stop. Your body was betraying you, and you blamed being touch starved for so long. Your biological reaction was all he needed to continue, trailing a hand over your ass, pausing at the back of your thigh.

He was radiating heat, hot breath in your ear still, his chest now pinning you. 

Your eyes closed, and you tried to escape the present moment. You willed yourself to think of anything, dissociating yourself from what was happening. You began to think of the most recent ship you had scavenged, right before the ultimate crash. You remembered digging through solid crates of the ship's cargo- old, rare pieces of ship being delivered to some foreign planet. You hadn't realized it before, but the crates had a stark black logo.... showing ownership The First Order. Within the flashback, you saw the alarms of the ship begin to alert as you and your partner hauled the crate onto your loading dock. The vision of your partner was even fuzzy, but you remembered the panic of loading the final crate. You had to hurry. It was a narrow escape, and you reached lightspeed just in time for your escape. It wasn't long in your travel, unanswered calls to your partner's main freighter, that your ship was hit, alarms blaring as it spiraled to the NI planet you found yourself stranded on-

Kylo pushed himself from you, quickly, as if you were on fire and he was burned. Your breath caught in your throat, and you ran your hand along where his once was.

He took a step back, reaching and readjusting his mask onto his head. He called for Troopers to enter.

"Take her to my chambers." 

You didn't fight it, and willingly left his presence. You were still confused as to what just fucking happened....

Kylo stood, frozen in his spot, hands still at his sides as you were taken aware. 

Little did you know, your mental wall had come down, only for a brief moment. His physical touch, the one that send chills and heat through your deepest regions, melted the wall like the warmth of the sun melts winter frost. You didn't realize it, but he had his first glimpse into your mind. He didn't search, but instead had watched your thoughts as they arose and passed by.

He saw everything in your flashback, confirming that you had unknowingly stolen the First Order's artifacts. 

And he now knew what he had to do in order to break that wall.


	16. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some non-consensual material. Just a warning!

Two troopers shoved you into the room, the door closing only behind one of them. You scoffed, stumbling and catching yourself. 

You were still red-faced and embarrassed from your body's reaction earlier, and you tried to clear your head. You couldn't help but pace, trailing from the living area to the kitchen. The trooper paid you no mind, standing at attention by the door. 

You brought two hands to the sides of your head, nearly panting with the promise of an anxiety attack. You can't just fucking sit here placid, just at their beck and call. You can't. You can't be used again, taken advantage of again. This was only getting worse. His approach was becoming more and more sexual, more lustful, and soon.... it was going to bubble over and beyond any return. Your plan to bide time and wait, to play his game... it was quickly being revised. 

Staying meant being vulnerable. Staying meant being complacent, and staying meant that he was going to take you. 

And then ultimately kill you. 

The warning of his tight hand on your throat still burned, a reminder of what was to come. 

This couldn't keep happening- he was gone at the moment, and this time, you had to fucking try to escape. You had to-

You turned, a light bulb sparking in your mind. The storm trooper was still frozen in his guarding, paying no mind to you.

You relaxed your shoulders, concentrating, your eyes boring into the white mask of the unknowing solider. 

The pressure within your skull was building, but this time, it was coming from you. You felt the ember, brighten, flare up in the subtle breath of your mind. You closed your eyes, focusing on the disgusting ways he touched your body, as if he fucking owned you. The anger was boiling beneath your skin. You were never meant to submit, to anyone. You were not a servant, you were not made to be subservient- and you were fucking pissed at yourself for allowing his touch to create a heat within you. 

Suddenly you felt it, the pressure had boiled over suddenly, releasing like a steaming kettle as you mentally pushed at the solider. Just as you opened your eyes, you saw him flail sideways, and you quickly jumped back. After a moment, making sure you hadn't simply imagined it all, you ran to him, grabbing his blaster that had fallen out of his grip. He was just unconscious, you hoped. 

And it took no time to open the door and slink into the dark hallways. 

\-------------------------------

KYLO'S POV

The struggle for power within him was like two rabid dogs fighting to the death. He couldn't concentrate, nearly foaming at the mouth, himself, thinking of everything he wanted to- that he WILL do to her once he gets back to his chambers.

Lengthy strides carried him down the hallway, and he was gritting his teeth with every step.

It was fucking frustrating, he would admit. He wanted inside of that mind of hers. It was the forbidden fruit, the one place he wasn't allowed to go. And that killed him. 

The sultry taste he got, the hint of her thoughts, only when she was aroused, was more than just temptation- it was a fucking tease. He knew how to open her mind, how to melt down that wall before she solidified it back up. She was vulnerable under his hold, she was weak with her attraction and arousal. 

He wanted to know everything about her, inside and out. And that was terrifying. She pecked at his own thoughts like a small bird, keeping his attention always, somewhat, on her. He hated it. 

He wanted to see into her thoughts, to learn the deepest recesses of her mind, and be fucking done with it. He wanted to exorcise this hold she seemed to have on him. Why did he care? What did it fucking matter? 

He had convinced himself it was the interest and curiosity of her absorbed powers, but it felt like it was something more. Something much more. There had become present a small thread within him, nearest his heart. It tugged, shifted, tightened, and came alive like some small creature when he was near her. He had never experienced anything like it. 

But she was his prisoner. No- not his prisoner. A prisoner of the First Order. He shamed and scoffed at his own thoughts. She wasn't his 'anything.' She was nothing. 

Nothing but an intrusive thought that he must snuff out. 

And he wasn't sure exactly what that meant.

It wasn't long until he reached his chambers. The door opened, and at Kylo's feet was an unconscious, unarmed Storm Trooper. 

She was gone. 

_______________________

Y/N POV

It seemed to be the late hours, as the hallways were empty. You had, somehow, managed to maneuver and sneak yourself around squadrons and others roaming the halls. You had darted in tight hallways, hidden in (thankfully) empty rooms, and had now made your way to what seemed to be a deadly quiet end of the ship. 

Everything was silent, only the small sound of your footsteps. You kept the blaster at your side, hand on the trigger. The adrenaline had worn off only slightly, but the thread within your chest fell stagnant for the first time in a while. 

You turned a corner, cautious, tiptoeing, blaster at the ready. 

Suddenly, a pale hand clasped over your mouth, muffling your scream, pulling you backwards into a dark room while the other strange hand grabbed your wrist of the hand that held the blaster.

You were dragged backwards, thrashing and biting at the hand, but you were not released. Instead, the blaster was pried from your hand and tossed to the side. With a swift turn, the hand still over your mouth, you were pressed into a wall.

Instinctively, your hand shot up to hit your attacker, and even though your eyes hadn't adjusted, your fist made contact- hard- with what you assumed was a face. He stumbled backward, out of the shadow and into the light.

General Hux.

He was grasping at his nose, you assumed that was where you had hit him. You were panting, and your eyes darted to the blaster a few feet from you. He seemed to notice your line of sight, and just as you made a dive for it, he beat you to and kicked it far out of your reach. You fell to your knees, and he quickly approached you, forcing you to stand and stumble backwards.

"Don't fucking touch me." You hissed, still backing up as he approached. The blaster was out of of reach, there'd be no way to grab it before he got to you. He stopped, just feet from you, the bridge of his nose reddening from your blow. Eyes furrowed, he glared from under his angry brow.

"I told Kylo you'd be more fucking trouble than you were worth." He spit the words out, eyes raking up and down your shivering form. 

"Fuck you." You retorted, trying to access the strength and focus from within to send him fucking flying- just as you had done once before. He seemed to catch onto this, and quickly lunged at you, breaking your concentration, pinning you against the wall. 

"Let GO!" You shoved against him, but he only pressed himself into you more, his chest crushing your own. He let out a chuckle as you continued to struggle out of his grip.

"You're not going anywhere." He hissed, barely audible. You gritted your teeth, trying to free your hands, but he had them in vice grips in his own. He brought his face down towards you, and your gazes were so close in proximity, your eyes could barely focus in on the blue grey eyes. 

"Don't be difficult, you little fucking tease." He chided, bringing his lips closer to yours. You turned your head, hard, nearly busting him in his jaw but he drew back just in time to avoid it. He sighed, heavy in annoyance. He looked off into a corner of the room, in thought, and turned back to you. 

"You really think I don't know what you're doing? The short little dress you wear, the way you look at me- you don't think I've noticed?"

What the hell was he talking about? You had never- not once- did anything to give him the slightest idea. You wanted to spit in his fucking face. The way he looked down at you, the way he stilled your struggling form. You felt dirty, disgusting. You thrust your body weight down, desperately trying to regain an advantage, but he followed and counteracted your every move. 

"Get off of me." You continued thrashing, and he pressed into you more.

"Just- let this happen... and I will let you go." His voice was a tight whisper. "Like nothing happened."

You stilled. 

"You'll let me leave?"

"Yes." He panted, impatient. "I'll turn a blind eye, let you be on your way."

This was a promise of release. But how could you believe him? You knew what "let this happen" insinuated, and it made your stomach churn. You felt sick... tears welled up and you couldn't stop them from spilling over. He took your brief stillness as an answer, and you turned your head to the side as he brought his hands to your breasts, grabbing roughly, angrily. This was a complete difference from the General you had seen prior- he was no where near his strict, controlled self. He was a desperate man. 

The string within your chest was taught, shivering, shaking, nearly on fire. It felt like white hot fury. 

You grimaced as he continued to assault your form, and you couldn't control the shivering sobs that came out of you now. 

"Please... don't do this." You asked, your entire body quivering as he dragged sloppy kisses and bites across your chest, your collarbone. He ignored you, continuing to grapple you, heavy handed and gross. He ran a hand up the small of your back, gripping the fabric and tugging it down nearly revealing your breasts fully. His other hand reached between your legs, pulling the fabric up and over you. 

The thread within you was vibrating so intensely now, you felt it through your jaw, through your teeth. 

Just as his fingers were about to touch you, to find you there, the door flew open, flooding the room with hot white light. 

Immediately, the red haired general backed away from you, leaving you as if he were a child caught stealing candy. If it were possible for his skin to be paler, you'd even say he was completely flush. He looked like he had seen a ghost. The tears, still sticking and sliding down your face, slowed, just for a moment. You shoved your dress down, covering yourself even though you were still clothed, and looked over to who had entered.

The Commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!  
> First of all, thank you so much for reading this piece. I really appreciate all the feedback and kudos! 
> 
> Please please PLEASE leave a comment and let me know what you think! This is my first time writing a super smutty work, and I'd love to know how I'm doing so far! :-)


	17. Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: description of a panic attack.

"General." Although his baritone voice was modulated through the emotionless helmet, the utterance was a threat. And both you, and Hux, felt it. For once, his fury was aimed towards someone other than you, his gaze directly facing the General. And that confused you. 

"Commander." He straightened, slightly. You assumed he was trying to maintain what little authority he had, arms folded behind his back, his glare unwavering.

The silence was near deafening.

"She is not to leave my chambers." Kylo's voice was taught, as he stepped forward. 

"Actually, she was-" Hux began coyly with a sideways glance to you, but a hand raised from the dark cloaked figure silenced him. Not with the force- simply the gesture and promise of strangulation caused the words to fail the general. 

"She is not. To leave. My chambers." Kylo repeated himself. "Under any circumstances." 

The general's face scrunched up in slight confusion, but he kept quiet, understanding the warning. His lips pursed into a thin line, as he quickly realized Kylo was not supportive of or amused by this. It was obvious what Hux's plans for you were, and Kylo was more than well aware. Hux's thoughts were blaring viciously of what he had in mind. 

"Yes, Commander." He nearly spit the words, clenching his fists out of sight behind his back. Kylo's hand lowered after a beat, and he turned to face you. Your tears had since dried, tightening your cheeks, but you kept your grip on the hem of your dress, making sure it was well covering you. 

"Come." Kylo ordered, and you didn't have to think twice before acting, quickly striding over to him, refusing to glance at the furious general to your left. The Commander gestured sharply for you to exit the room, crossing in front of him, as he sent one last masked glare to Hux.

You weren't left alone in the hallway for very long- Kylo strode past you, nearly bumping into your shoulder. You didn't have to be told twice- with a glance behind you, you caught up to him, one of his strides doubling your own. You were nearly jogging to keep up. 

You weren't sure how to feel about how he continued to stride forward, not bothering to make sure you were still following. He must know you were well aware of the alternative- you shuttered thinking of Hux's grabby hands on you and didn't hesitate to follow behind this man.... the man who had only recently.... touched you as well. 

But it was different with Kylo. You snuck a glance sideways to him, his masked face straight forward, focused on navigating the hallways in lengthy paces. A warmth grew within you when he had touched you. The pull of the silvery thread within you was gentle, glowing, and felt... right. 

He could have easily left you in Hux's grasp, alone with him in that damned room to let the General have his way with you- hell, it would've been torture. 

But he didn't. 

Right now, you weren't sure what to make of it. You didn't have much time to think on it, as it seemed you had reached your destination. 

Right back where you started... his chambers. He motioned for you to enter, waving a leather hand. You obliged, quietly tip toeing past him and into the room. You felt he was about to lose it, barely biting back an explosive rage. 

You found a safe spot behind a piece of furniture, one of the few he hadn't destroyed yet, and turned to face him, unsure. He walked in, the door slamming shut behind him. He didn't bother to glance at you or even acknowledge you as he rushed into the kitchen, removing his helmet with both hands, and slamming it down hard onto the marble countertops.

You jumped at the sound, but remained where you were, almost afraid to look at him. You had tried to escape- you were sure he was well aware of that. It would have been obvious. When you finally gained the courage to glance his way, he sat leaned against the counter, a cigarette between his lips... and he was already staring at you. 

You felt yourself pale. Why did he keep Hux from hurting you? Why did he care? You wanted to thank him, but you still were unsure. You were afraid to speak. 

The cigarette dangled between plump lips, his temples pulsing with every angry grit of his teeth and clench of his jaw. His eyes, darker than usual and unblinking, revealed what you were afraid of. He was barely containing his rage. He finally broke eye contact, casually flicking his hand near his mouth, lighting the cigarette with the Force. A deep inhale, and he pushed off the counter, eyeing you as he rubbed his brow with his thumb.

"Did he hurt you?" 

You were taken aback. Did he hurt me? Was this coming from the same man who promised you death on a daily basis? You didn't know what to say, but when his eyes flicked up to yours expectantly, you shook your head quickly- 'no.' 

He nodded, running a heavy hand through his hair, and taking a drag. He didn't seem as pissed, but still on edge. You didn't want to push him. 

"I, uh...." your voice was light as a feather, and just as weak. He stopped his approach, his fists moving to clench by his sides, looking down his nose at you, waiting for you to continue.

Your words tripped over your tongue, stumbling out. "I'm... I just wanted to... thank you." 

He finally broke eye contact, casually moving his hand near his mouth, lighting the cigarette with the Force. A deep inhale, and he pushed off the counter, eyeing you as he rubbed his brow with his thumb. He scoffed, removing the cigarette prematurely to crush it into a nearby ashtray. Folding his arms across his large chest, he looked you over.

"If you would have stayed in this room, as instructed...." He nearly growled, eyes flicking back up to meet you. "That wouldn't have fucking happened." 

You swallowed. The fury was reigniting.

"Do you realize what he was going to do to you?" His voice was raising rapidly, and you could see the heat within his body rise- he was getting angrier. You felt tears sting in your eyes- of course you fucking knew what Hux was planning to do. A rough hand grabbed an empty wine glass, and sent it flying across the room just past you, shattering into the wall, and you ducked down behind the loveseat. 

"You've caused nothing but fucking trouble." He gestured roughly to your general direction, and you flinched. "You refuse to follow orders. I have told you prior- your life is expendable and your time here is limited. Do not continue to test me." He turned quickly, grabbing the ashtray and slinging it straight into the nearest wall. You yelped, but remained still, trying to stand ground. You bit the inside of your cheeks, begging the tears to subside. 

"Then why did you stop him?"

Feral eyes met yours, and you regretted ever uttering a reply. He strode over to you, his fury no longer contained. He stopped, just before reaching you, and you froze, wincing, waiting for some sort of physical punishment.

Instead he stood, quaking before you, teeth gnashing.

"Because you're mine to break. No one else's." 

You nearly scoffed at his brashness, but swallowed your pride and didn't respond. His eyes were scanning you, waiting, again- testing you. You kept your mouth quiet.

"You are never to try to run away again." He exhaled through his nose, straightening himself, and shoving past to circle in behind you. "I don't want anyone else touching you." He murmured, still a tinge of anger on his lips, a leathered hand pulling your hair to the side to reveal your neck. You shuddered, flesh overwhelmed with goosebumps, but the fire within your stomach grew. 

He knew exactly what he was doing, his other hand falling to your waist. You shut your eyes, still sensitive to a man's touch, especially after your encounter with Hux. It was too much. Too much too soon, you were feeling like you were losing control- because you were. 

You pushed off of him, spinning to face him. He stood still, observing you. This was too much- too much sensory overload and you felt like you couldn't breathe. Your mind was overflowing and you couldn't control it. Everything was hitting you at once- your second attempt at escape served you no purpose but to almost get you raped, you were immediately brought back to the one place you were trying to avoid, and now- you felt absolutely fucking hopeless. Your chance to escape had come and gone, and you had failed. 

When he took an aggravated step towards you, you put your hands in front of you in defense, and he stopped. 

"Please, don't-" You stuttered, trying to catch your breath. You felt it- a tightening in your chest but it wasn't the mysterious thread. It was in your lungs. Suddenly it felt like you were breathing through a straw, and your face was tingling with numbness. The feeling of being trapped was creeping up, icing over in your veins and sending tightness through your lungs. The panic was setting in.

Tears were flowing in hot streams down your cheeks and onto your chest. The finality of your predicament was settling in and you couldn't breathe. You backed yourself into the wall, into a corner, sliding down and assuming a fetal position, trying to make yourself as small as possible as the tears continued. 

"What is wrong with you." He took a step back, his eyebrows furrowed in either disgust or confusion- you didn't have the clarity to determine. Inside your mind was a swirling storm, and you couldn't hear anything over the ragged breaths wheezing out of you. You squeezed your eyes shut, inhales and exhales still paced in quivering huffs. 

Like a small spark, you felt the thread within you flicker alive, almost lost to the panic overwhelming you. But it was there.

You brought your head up, trying to extend your torso to breathe easier, and found Kylo knelt down in front of you, studying you. Trying to read your expression, searching your eyes for... something. He was at a safe distance, double an arms length. He looked at you like you were a wounded animal.

"Breathe." He says, lowly. It was as if he were commanding you, and his tone only heightened the anxiety. You barely heard him over your gasps, your fingers digging into the sides of your legs. You tried to reply, that you couldn't breathe, but you could not speak. Only sputtering cries continued to fall out of your lips. He seemed to catch on- you were having a panic attack.

"Just... just breathe." He said, and your pried your eyes open, watching him watch you. This time his voice wasn't a command, but almost a plea. Your eyes met his, the dark chocolate gaze staring straight through you.

"With me-Inhale. One... two... three..." He instructed, his voice still uncharacteristically soft and just as suspicious, fell on your ears, and you tried to follow along with a shaky inhale. He kept you under a watchful eye, his brow furrowed in an emotion you couldn't pinpoint. But his gaze never left you.

"Good. Hold it.... now exhale... one... two... three..." He was exhaling, doing the breathing exercise with you, and after several cycles, you found your heart rate slowing, your lungs expanding back to their normal breath, and the tears had stopped flowing.

When your breathing had steadied and somewhat returned to normal, he stood, slowly, as if not to frighten you. Moving to the kitchen, he began to pour himself a glass of wine.

"Go. Get some rest." He instructed, leaning against the side of the counter, sipping from his wine. He nodded towards the neatly made bed You took a hand to your face, wiping any remaining tears, and stood slowly.

You didn't question his order, and found yourself looking forward to sleep. 

It wasn't long before you were out, your body and mind equally exhausted. 

\---------------------------

KYLO'S POV.

\---------------------------

Kylo found himself pouring another glass, sitting on the loveseat with his back to you. The clock read 0300 hours, and he scoffed at his lack of tiredness. He would most likely not find any sleep tonight. 

There were too many questions buzzing within his mind, angry hornets of wondering over and over and over. What was this strange connection he had with you? Whatever it was, he felt it was negative. It was softening him. Why had he cared if you were having a panic attack? Why did he even feel the need to help you?

These feelings were a sign of weakness, and he must crush them before it gets worse.


	18. Fruit

You lurched up in bed, still unsure of your surroundings. The room was deadly quiet- the only sound was your breathing. You pulled the covers closer to you, eyes searching the room for... him. 

To your surprise, the room was completely empty. 

You were still wary- he could be lurking around here somewhere. You brought your feet to the side of the bed, bare soles hitting the cool marble floor. Your stomach, pinching and growling just at the scent of food, led you to the kitchen area. You hadn't eaten in... quite a while, and felt the hunger through the fuzziness in your head. 

On the counter was a silver platter full of brightly colored food- various fruits, breads, vegetables. The brightness of the meal before you was so contrasted against the dark, monotone room that surrounded you. 

You were grateful the cool-toned lights were on instead of the red casted LED. The scarlet color was almost becoming triggering to you, signifying the presence of Kylo. 

A small, digital frame sat propped against the plate of food. It read:

"Eat. 

-Commander Ren." 

You half scoffed, reaching for a yellow slice of fruit that looked especially dewey. Of course- he was giving you strict orders even when he wasn't there. If you wanted to be stubborn and ignore his direct order, your stomach wouldn't let you. 

Just as you brought the food to your lips, you paused, drool pooling below your tongue.

You sniffed it- sweet and sour smelling. Was it poisoned? You pulled it away, eyeing it suspiciously, and looked around the room. You bent over the counter, bringing your nose to the rest of the plate, eyeing it carefully. Would you even be able to tell if it were poisoned....? 

You shifted, saliva still flooding your mouth. You were starving. 

You decided to test your luck (Hell, they hadn't killed you yet, right?) and took a bite. The flavor was tart, but sweet, and soon you found yourself eating ravenously- nearly inhaling the chunks of sweet fruit. Every other bite, you grabbed a chunk of porous bread loaf, tearing off chunks nearly choking. 

Your stomach proved to be faster than your mouth was able to chew, but soon the sharp edge of your hunger had subsided, and you were facing a near-empty platter in front of you. 

You found a seat on the loveseat in the living area, the black leather thick, hard, and uncomfortable. The stiff leather was not made for comfort. It matched the rest of these quarters- there was nothing that did not have a purpose within this room. Minimal, black, red, and silvery chrome. 

It felt cold. 

It was cold.

You crossed your arms in front of you, trying to gain some comfort. 

You had guessed about an hour or so had passed, but you weren't sure. The hunger in your stomach was gone, but it was quickly replaced with the anxiety of the unknown. You reflected on your experience the night before. 

You were at your most vulnerable in front of the Commander- and yet, he did not take advantage. The famously heartless and rigid Commander Ren.... helped breathe you through a panic attack. 

He didn't mock you. He didn't take advantage of your weak state...

He didn't use your panic as an opportunity to break into your mind. He helped you. 

You glanced over to the near empty platter of food. 

He fed you. 

You took a deep breath. Perhaps this was just an... advanced means of torture? 

However, it seemed like a stretch. It didn't feel that he had ulterior motives. But perhaps this was a weakness showing within you. Were you giving him the benefit of the doubt? Were you assuming that he cared? You put your head in your hands. 

The confusion within you was palpable. Perhaps this was a means of torture. If so, it was working. 

\----------------------------------------

You had begun pacing. You were surprised that you hadn't worn a rut into the bone-hard marble below your feet. 

It had been hours- hours upon hours. You had finished off the platter of food, nearly licking the crumbs off. You had found a pitcher of iced water, and chugged it straight form the container, bar a glass. 

The pacing helped pass the time, but godsdamned this was ridiculous. You had long decided this had to be a form of torture- the silence and the isolation was nearly peeling your skin away from the bones, and the fact that you knew escape was impossible only burned your soul more. 

You plopped down onto the loveseat once more, running your fingers along the edge of the arm rest. 

A sliver of metal caught your attention, your fingers stilling on top of it. You quickly leaned up, and found the source. It appeared to be a small push-button. Curiosity got the best of you, and you pressed it in with a small click. 

A hidden drawer opened on the front side of the loveseat's arm rest, and carefully placed inside were lines and stacks of cigarettes. Your fingers carefully lifted one- surely it wouldn't be missed? Somehow, the cigarette looked a lot smaller in Kylo's hand... 

Once the small, white paper-lined object was between your fingers, you carefully lifted it to your face, inhaling deep and running the edge of it along the bottom of your nose. You can smell the nicotine already, and couldn't help but placing it between your lips. 

The scent took you back, and you stood, simply sucking in on the unlit object. The warm, spicy scent suddenly took you back, and you remembered your scavenging partner. 

He smoked, too, you remembered. He smoked like a damn freight train- unlike Kylo's casual, controlled inhalation. 

Your memories flooded back, and your breath caught. He was tall, blonde haired, and- how had you forgotten him? 

Suddenly you were back, right before the crash.....

\------------------------------

"Don't be stupid, Y/N," he teased, shoving you in the shoulder as you shoved a small piece of metal into a satchel. You turned to face him. His hair, shaved underneath but long otherwise, was halfway covering a smirking face. and you scoffed. 

"Oh shut up, Khoan." 

"We can't fucking take everything, kid." He mocked, gesturing towards your pack. You stood, shoving another piece into your bag. It had been ages since you had found a score this big- this resistance ship had laid untapped for quite a while- and it was a host of gems. You and Khoan had already loaded several crates onto your ships, the cargo hold of both nearly overflowing with bounty.

"We're already more than set for quite a while." He retorted, pulling a cigarette out of a pocket in his jacket, lighting it quickly and inhaling.

"I know, but a little extra can't hurt." You said, tossing another shining metal piece into your bag. He sent a glance your way, before checking over his shoulder. 

"Yeah, but we've overstayed our welcome. Come on- let's go." 

"Why the rush?" You rolled your eyes jokingly as you stood, following behind him to exit the ship. He was always the worrier, always so overly aware of everything that could possibly go wrong. Both of your ships were in view, side by side, their bellies full of newly-found fortunes. 

"There's a reason this one hasn't been scavenged." He retorted, taking a final drag on the cigarette before flicking it off to the side. He continued to glance around, eyes on the skies at all times. You readjusted the heavy bag over your shoulder. 

"Like what?"

"Hell, I don't know. But I don't want to stick around and find out, kid." 

\-----------------------------------

The door flew open, breaking you out of the flashback, and you gasped at the sound. 

Kylo.

He stood in the doorway, his helmet at his side. He looked like he had just ran a marathon- sweat dripped down the sides of his face and he looked flush. He wasn't panting, but the flare of his nostrils showed his heightened breathing. 

The cigarette still dangled between your lips, and you suddenly felt self conscious- you hadn't thought about it, but you were technically stealing. You were frozen, unable to move under his shadowed gaze. 

He brought a hand up to face you, flicking his fingers. 

The cigarette in your mouth suddenly caught flame, the tip igniting and you gasped, pulling it out of your mouth quickly, holding it between two fingers, spirals of smoke still swirling up to the ceiling. 

"No, no." Kylo retorted through gritted teeth, a slight twitch in his eye. "By all means."


	19. Touch

You stumbled over your tongue, trying to find words, feeling as if you had been caught. Which, technically, you had been. These were not your cigarettes, they were his. 

And you were caught red handed. He didn't remove his gaze from yours, striding over. You stood frozen, stiffened, ready for some sort of punishment. 

Instead, he continued past, snatching the burning cigarette out of your hand and found his way to the kitchen. He put the lit cigarette between his plump lips, pursing them into a thin line as he glanced down at the empty platter on the counter. Eyes flicked back up to you, in some sort of acknowledgement. And you were suddenly grateful you had had such an appetite- you didn't want to know how he would have reacted if the plate was untouched, going against his direct orders.

His hair fell around his face, slightly damp. His cheeks were still slightly flushed, as if he had been exerting himself. His face was near expressionless, aside from a slight furrow in his brow. Another inhale and exhale brought a sliver of smoke around him, and after a beat, he smashed the head of the cigarette into the ashtray. 

"Gather your training uniform. We leave in 15 minutes." He didn't even glance up at you, pushing off the counter and removing his cloak. You stilled.

"My what?" 

With his back still to you, he flicked his hand, sending a folded pile of black fabric flying right at your head. You dodged it a second too late and it crashed into the side of your face, unceremoniously unfolding and falling to the ground. You scoffed, sending a glare towards him, as he waited outside the door. 

\----------

You trailed behind him down the hallways, your strides half his own. Your pride pinched- he knew you were following, not bothering to look back- he knew you wouldn't disobey. Like a little fucking puppy. It made your stomach knot up but you swallowed it back and continued on. 

The outfit you had been given was athletic wear- slick black leggings, and a form-fitting cropped, sleeveless top. You had never worn such a thing in your entire life, and felt smothered by the tightness of the outfit. 

You quickly realized what room you were returning to- the same, high-ceilinged auditorium where you threw both Hux and Kylo on their asses. You felt a bile rise up in your throat, hoping to the gods the General would not be attending. 

You stilled as you reached the middle of the room, watching as his helmet was placed carefully on a table near the side and he turned back to face you. You still felt a catch in your chest at his unmasked, raw gaze. He gestured for you to continue, to the same area you had been prior. 

Dead center. 

You felt like a lamb in a lions den, listening to the faint echoes and hums of the ship as you made your way to the middle, clenching your fists at your side as you forced your legs to comply. You remembered the humiliation you had endured the last time you were here, and weren't looking forward to more torture.

"It will only be you and I." Kylo's unmodulated voice echoed throughout the room as he sensed your unease. He took slow steps toward you, his cowl trailing behind him. You weren't sure what to make of that statement, and decided to push your luck... 

You shifted, taking a new stance. You tried to focus within, feeling a slight tension growing behind your forehead, trying to focus on sending him flying backwards just as before, the arrogant son of a- 

A lift of his hand shook you, shoving you sideways just enough to break your focus. You caught your balance just before you fell, cursing.

"There will be none of that." Kylo said, sharp and quickly, his tone serious. He seemed to have expected-or read your move, quickly stopping your attempt to bring about the Force you struggled to harness. Your eyebrows furrowed, annoyed, and you let out a huff. 

"Then what is this about." You scoffed, crossing your arms. His lips twitched at the corner, almost a hint of amusement at your frustration. But the small sign of humility vanished just as it appeared. Instead, he turned, slowly raising his hand, palm outstretched, aimed right at you.

You felt the familiar pressure within you, the pulling and tightening of the tiny thread in your chest cavity, and closed your eyes as tightly as you can, preparing for the worst. 

But instead, the torture, the humiliation, the cat and mouse game didn't come. The pressure was... steady, but gentle. Like warm water easing over snow-bitten hands. 

Your eyes loosened, but your eyebrows furrowed. What was happening? 

Before, the pressure and attempts to enter the deep recesses of your inner mind felt like a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth and pacing back and forth in front of the sturdy wall. Snarling and frustrated, wanting to get the prey just on the other side. But now, it was a gentle calling. Almost a request, but yet it was not asking permission. You felt patience, restraint, from the creature that hadn't been there before. It was still stern, but gentled. 

What did that mean?

You could see it now- your wall. Your protected fortress- strong, sturdy- built with the ancient and sacred power of the Force. Brick by brick. It wasn't going anywhere. From your side, you could see vibrational ripples coming through the brick- the creature calling from the other side... from Kylo. As if a gloved hand were outstretched, running leather fingertips over the impenetrable wall within you...

You felt a pull, a gentle tug within you, sending waves of warmth through you- the strange thread. You decided to follow its guidance, and stepped closer and closer to the wall. You stopped just at arms length.

As if the stone wall in front of you were made simply of water, you saw ripples. It was as if you were laying at the bottom of a body of darkened water, looking up, watching a shadowed figure hovering just over the surface. The ripples went side to side, as if they were pacing. The string within your chest was nearly humming- you were sure if it vibrated any faster it would produce light.

Now that you were closer, when the ripples began again, you saw two leather fingertips, skimming the surface, breaking the surface tension ever so slightly. 

Testing the fortress. Feeling it... gauging it's depth, or strength, malleability- you weren't sure. 

How is this possible...?

Slowly, your curiosity built within you, and you outstretched a hand as well, your fingertips brushing the wall, sending the same similar vibrations throughout. You watched them as they made their way to the figure, foggy and dissipating. 

Just as they emerged on the other side, your eyes flew open, and disoriented, found yourself stumbling forward, back in reality, in the large shadowy room. You caught yourself with a single, heavy footfall, and regained posture, panting.

It took you a moment to register Kylo in front of you- who was dripping in sweat, panting just as heavily as you were, arms at his sides. Sweat droplets fell through strands of hair, collecting in a small puddle at his feet. His gaze, was unwavering- wide and intense- staring right through you. Lips were slightly parted, taking in air in shivery rasps, as if he were trying to catch his breath. As if his head had been underwater. 

You had never experienced anything like this. This realm within you... you had never heard of anything similar. You had no idea this wall within you even existed- and for gods sake, you interacted with it. All within your mind, your consciousness. You physically felt the bend in the wall, the delicious quake of the vibrations of your fingertips, sending their own ripples in response to the other side of the wall.

"What was that..." You asked between quick breaths, your voice quiet, small. He pursed his lips together, straightening himself as he inhaled through his nose, trying to regain. He did not answer.

As your breathing caught up, your chest felt hollow, missing the intense vibration of the thread that had once set your insides aglow.

His dark eyes were still wide, as if he were trying to swallow you in his gaze. It was working. You wished he would speak, to say anything, to break up the quieting rasps of inhales between the two of you. But the silence remained; heavy and thick. 

"Fucking say something." You spit, unsure if he even heard the utterance- he didn't respond. His gaze, instead, stayed on you, as if you were some newly discovered, possibly poisonous insect under a microscope. He finally adjusted, moving to circle you slightly, but you kept your front facing him, turning along with him as he moved. 

"That should not have been possible." He said, almost to himself. You saw a grit of his teeth, his jaw clenching and unclenching in curious uncertainty. You didn't know what to say, continuing to keep your front facing him. 

"What shouldn't have been possible?" You demanded, trying to maintain your false confidence. It was quickly shrinking from you. He was clearly genuinely interested in what just happened. But why? It has been established that what little powers you had acquired are ultimately short-lived. And after he's done with this... questioning, this testing, this probing of your mind, you would be of no use, or interest to him. You were ultimately expendable, yet he was spending so much time playing with your brain. Was this simply a training opportunity for him? To exercise and strengthen his ability?

His pacing turned inward ever more, closing the distance between the two of you until he was but an arms length away. You stood your ground as he came to a still before you, towering over your much smaller frame. You bit your cheek, blushing as you found yourself having to lift your chin to meet his gaze. He stood an entire head and a half over you, his frame doubling yours. Horizontal fabric tight across his arms concealed large muscles, broad shoulders, hinting at giant lateral muscles just tapering at the waist. You feared his mental ability and training with the Force, and his physical stature was no different. He could crush you, with or without his mysterious mind powers.

His brown eyes, the ones you had previously thought were dark as night, turned mahogany and whisky in the catch of the light. Pale skin illuminated, furrowing eyebrows in his focus on you, raven hair damp from sweat, beads still trickling down. The direct attention made you nervous, but you were determined not to falter, biting the inside of your cheek so hard you could nearly taste blood. 

He remained unblinking, but slowly brought a hand to you. You scolded yourself for wincing, but you had expected pain, or another attempt at intrusion. But instead, you were met with a firm but gentle grasp on your jawline. He held you still, just as you felt yourself begin to tremble under his touch. 

"So interesting." He chided, tilting his head as his eyes trailed down your form. Suddenly, he closed the distance between you, your chests nearly brushing. You went to step backwards, but with a tightened grip, you knew not to move. The warmth within your chest began again.... as did between your thighs. 

Why did his touch illicit such a primitive response?! You begged your body to not betray you, cursing to yourself as you felt your cheeks heating up, no doubt giving you away. 

His hand moved from your jaw, snaking around the back of your neck- agonizingly slow, like a large snake. Fingers spread and trailed upwards at the back of your head, fisting into a handful of your hair, gently tugging to where you were looking upwards ever more at him. It was heavy handed but not quite aggressive. It was firm, dominant... reiterating whose mercy you were at. You needn't be reminded. 

You felt the pooling of warm wetness between your legs, and you shifted to tighten them closer. This didn't go unnoticed. 

The leathered hand fisted in your hair tightened ever so slightly, and your gaze was redirected to his. You were pinned. 

"You clearly despise me." He began, quietly. "Yet your body says something completely different." His head shifted to the side once more, genuinely inquisitive. You swallowed, straining at the angle you were at.

"Let. Me. Go." You said through gritted teeth, angry at how unsure and conflicted you sounded, and was sure he picked up on it. You didn't want him to let you go.


	20. Fear

"Let. Me. Go." Your voice was laced with falseness, and he could feel it. 

His expression did not change, but instead he leaned forward, so close your noses nearly brushed. You felt the color rush to your face, and shy sweat coated your upper lip as you caught your breath.

"What a tease, to completely get into that mind of yours, little girl." He murmured, deep voice barely a whisper. The vibrations of his words shook you to your core, sending fluttering through your veins. "But it seems your body is giving some of your thoughts away." He chided, bringing his other hand to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen across your face. You winced at his gloved hand, and he set his jaw. You shut your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. His vice-grip at the back of your skull loosened slightly, pulling you away from him in observation, before he released you completely and stepped from the light. 

"What is this all about- what kind of fucking training is this? You try to get into my mind and when you cant, you just..." You trailed off in a rasp, a tinge of anger to cover the arousal, clenching fists at your sides, begging your cheeks to let go of their scarlet shade. You didn't know how to explain what he was doing when he was manhandling you. He walked to the edge of the lighted center before turning to face you again. 

"The wall within your mind is uncharacteristically a challenge for me." He said, tone flat. There was a glimmer across his gaze before he continued, crossing his hands behind his back. "However, seeing as it is not a permanent ability of yours to resist, consider this temporary... skill building- for me." 

"And what happens when that is over?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"You will be executed."

Hearing the finality of it sent ice through your veins. You sputtered. "And may I ask my fucking charges?"

"For treason. Against the First Order." 

"I was stranded on an uninhabited planet, I-I wasn't trying to just fucking steal a ship- I was trying to save myse-"

"There is no room for discussion- the decision is final." He retorted sharply, waving a hand to silence you further. Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you bit back a response. You didn't want to accept this finality, but knew it was of no use to argue about it now. You still had your strange power, and you thanked the gods for it. It was the only thing between you and the executioners block. 

His form shifted, slightly, still studying you. 

"Why did you pull back?" You asked, genuinely curious but still cautious all the same. He didn't respond, the desolate glare still pinning you. You decided to elaborate. "With the- the mental thing. When I touched the wall, too- why did you pull out of it?"

His jaw set, but he did not respond. Instead, he removed his cowl, letting it fall around his shoulders.

"If you're going to use me like a lab rat I have the right to know what-" 

"Enough!" He snapped, his voice raising an octave, and you were rendered motionless with his hand. 

You gritted your teeth, your entire body paralyzed under the wave of his hand, leathered palm outstretched and facing you. He took a step closer, swiftly closing the distance.

"I will use you as I see fit," He nearly growled, teeth barred, "and that is none of your business." 

Your jaw set firm, willing your tongue into silence. He stood, shoulders slightly moving with steadied inhales, watching you- waiting for a response. You maintained eye contact for as long as you could, but eventually brought your gaze down, giving him the submission he wanted. As you looked down, you begged yourself to keep tears behind your lids. 

The adverted gaze seemed to please him momentarily, and his hand was lowered, releasing you from your paralysis. You bit the inside of your cheek, waiting for his next move.

"Again, learning to submit is in your best interest." He remarked, half scoffing. He rolled his shoulders before clasping his hands behind his back once more. You looked up, unable to hide the fire behind your eyes. If only looks could kill.

"To just... 'submit' to the fact that I will be killed, eventually? Like an animal being kept before slaughter." You nearly spit, angry tears welling up and replacing fearful ones. He shifted, watching you. A smirk fell upon his lips.

"Exactly." 

You sneered, and brought your own hand up. You were expecting to be met with pain, with the pressure of his own force upon your mind. But it didn't come. He seemed amused at your attempt, the smirk still across his face as he watched you nearly boiling over. His own hand raised, haphazardly, to meet and mirror the pressure you were begging your limited ability to bring about.

And then you were back... facing the wall within you. His shadowed form on the other side looked, again, as if you were looking through a wall of darkened water, barely able to make him out. You noticed his eerie stillness- he didn't bother reaching up to caress the wall, to test it's strength. He was observing- waiting to see what you were going to try. 

You felt a tug, within your chest. Curiously, it was becoming as common as an inner monologue. You felt a compulsion to bring your hand to your side of the wall, sending a wake of ripples from the tips of your fingers. The vibrations were sent through, and you were surprised you weren't brought out of this odd mind space like just minutes before. 

Instead, the figure across from you still stood frozen. Haunting, as if it were a much bigger, more masculine shadow of yours. A shadowy ghost, still standing a foot taller than you. He seemed even more intimidating in real life, oddly. His silhouetted form seemed harmless with the wall between you. 

Your fingertips still touched the wall, sending a steady flow of vibrations. You inhaled, deeply, holding your breath at the top. With an exhale, you knew what you had to do. 

You shoved your hand through the dark matter of the wall before you, reaching out to grasp the other side, pushing further until your shoulder was stopped. 

You felt everything- feelings that weren't yours. You saw memories that weren't yours- a young raven haired boy, scared and wide eyed- staring at his mentor, a lightsaber at his neck. You felt the pressure within as if it were your own emotion, to live up to your Grandfather, Darth Vader. You could feel the cold charred mask of Vader within your own hands, although your hands were not your own. You were gasping for air, as if you were miles under an ocean. The need for power heated your veins, the want and desire to own everything in existence, entire galaxies- the strength of a light saber, created by hands that forced it to bend and snap and crack to your will.You felt the raw power, the strength, the addictive sense of dominance, feeding off other's fear- fear that you had, in fact, inflicted within them. It was as if you were seeing an entire lifetime, an entire life through dark eyes that weren't your own. You felt every bit of pain, of hard training, the pull of Dark, of Light. Being torn apart, like thinning fabric tearing at the seams, threatening to break further to either side- You felt the loneliness, the fury, the rage, the conflict, the deepest of passion, the.... fear. 

Ben. 

Suddenly your back hit the floor, stealing all breath from your lungs. Your chest wasn't cooperating- your throat nearly closed off as you struggled to take in gasping breaths. You sat up, extending your torso, finally taking a heavy, squeaking breath. You were absolutely drenched- sweat trickled down the sides of your face, hair plastered to your jawline. Your eyes felt as if they would pop out of your head.

And your wild gaze finally fell on the man in front of you, who was also apparently thrown on his ass. He looked just as terrified as you were- eyes wide, panting, covered in a glistening layer of sweat that trailed down the tip of his nose. You both looked as though you had been dunked underwater. 

You saw him in a different light. It seemed like the creature before you, dark raven hair, deep eyes, and a heartless soul.... was something you hadn't expected. Like a river, narrow and seemingly shallow- too dark to see it's true depth- once you stepped foot within you sunk into it's deepest places. You had felt his fear, his passion, his conflict. Monsters were not born- they were made. 

"How... How did..." You couldn't put together a coherent sentence.

He stared at you, wild-eyed, panting in time with your own gasps. His cowl, thrown around him in disarray, as if he had been tossed back into the present reality just as harshly as you had. You could nearly hear his thoughts from here- gears turning within his mind to try and figure out the situation at hand. Strong arms kept him propped in a half seated position as a bead of sweat dropped from the tip of his nose and over his parted lips.

"I don't know." He breathed, his voice uncharacteristically shaking. You weren't sure why, but this terrified you. His eyes, still unblinking, didn't falter from yours as he brought himself to stand, running an unsteady hand to readjust his shifted uniform. 

After what felt like hours, he finally broke eye contact, turning to grab his helmet, quickly adjusting it over his head, keeping his back to you. 

He flicked his hand, opening the main door. Your head whipped around at this sudden sound, still sitting on the floor trying to regain yourself. Two Storm Troopers emerged, basters across their chest, waiting for instruction. You turned back to Kylo, his back still facing you. With a quick gesture, the Troopers approached you, grabbing your upper arms and tugging you to a standing position. 

"Kylo, what-"

One of the troopers shook your shoulder, roughly tugging you to the opened doorway. Both soldiers kept a firm grip, forcing you to walk between them, out of the room . 

You kept your head turned back over your shoulder, watching Kylo's figure as he stood, still as a statue, still not facing you. It wasn't long until one of the Troopers grew annoyed, shoving your head to face forward as you were led out of the room and into the hallways. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

You were shoved into The Commander's quarters, unceremoniously. Your knees and palms met the hard marbled floor with a sting, and you nearly hissed, glancing back at the two Troopers, who quickly shut the door and regained their post just outside of the room. 

The closing of the door was finite, and left you in silence. 

Which was the last thing you wanted- to be alone in quietness, with your thoughts. 

You had seen him- really seen into him. Who he was before, who he became... 

Ben. You knew him. You felt every emotion and....

You felt like you were going to be sick. This was too much- you were in complete sensory overload. How was any of this fucking possible? How could you feel another person's emotions?

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to steady your racing thoughts. You decided a cold shower was in order, the salty stick of sweat still coating your skin. 

You felt smothered by your tight fitting clothes, peeling them off and tossing them to the side. You needed to feel air on your skin, and turned the shower on quickly. Steam began rising like thin little clouds as the water warmed up, and you turned the dial back to near ice temperature before stepping in. 

The water was so cold it hurt, and you fought back a gasp as it began trailing down your scalp, through your hair, chilling it's way down your bare back. 

You couldn't get the visuals out of your head. A young Kylo, raven hair just as wild and satin as it is now, terrified of his Master, a lightsaber reflected in his eyes. You felt the betrayal, the fear, the conflict Kylo felt. And it burned into your spirit like a branding iron that no amount of cold water could heal.


	21. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Told you it would be a slow burn. >:-)

It seemed like a good two weeks before you saw him again. 

You were ever so kindly given three small meals throughout the day. Bland coffee in the morning, and bitter tea at night. You slept alone, which, you had once thought was what you had wanted. But the loneliness was eating at you. Again. 

You told yourself you simply missed his familiarity, but cursed yourself when you found yourself actually missing him. His angular face, dark satin hair, foreboding, angry eyes.... 

Honestly, you had wondered if he was gone for good. And that emptiness was heavier than you thought it would be. 

The creeping feeling of isolation, which had once completely taken you over when you were stranded, was coming back. It was bitter de ja vu, reminiscent of the mindless routine you once found yourself trapped in. It was smothering. It ate at you, crept into your chest like a weed. It seemed to have choked the thread that was once lively within you- it has remained dormant and lifeless since he left. 

You found yourself revisiting memories that were once so faded and worn you'd figured they were lost to time. The crash had affected your memory in ways you hadn't realized until they began to come back, like breathing cold air onto a steamed mirror, they resurfaced. 

Your partner, Khoan. 

The name that just prior had barely struck a chord in your mind, that you had almost forgotten to injured memory. The day you both were given the tip off of a Resistance ship, housing mountains of unclaimed bounty. You revisited that same scene over and over again, on repeat. Trying to find answers. 

\------

Khoan snuffed out the end of his cigarette onto the countertop of the quiet, musty cantina. You tapped an impatient finger to the side of your beer glass, watching the little bubbles race to the top foam. 

"Khoan, I'm telling you," you turned to look at him, but he seemed more focused on finishing his beer. "This would set us for months, we'd-"

"You really aren't suspicious? It's just... too easy." He said, taking a drink, but still not looking at you. Which only made you more annoyed. You set your glass down, and completely swiveled in your chair to face him. 

"Maybe it's untapped because no one else knows about it." You challenged, still trying to keep your tone light. You wanted him to agree with you- you knew you were right about this. 

Just the previous night, you overheard two men discussing the location of the fallen ship- and how it was completely up for grabs- cargo holds full of machinery, codes, and tech pieces that could be sold at high prices. Now, it was just a foot race to see who got to the spoils first. 

"Those two blokes were sure aware of it..." Khoan scoffed, finishing off his glass and waving to the bartender for another. You frowned, and called for another drink as well. 

"Please." You said quietly after the drinks were delivered. 

"Why are you so up in arms about this, huh?" He glanced at you sideways, setting his drink down to turn to face you now. You halted, never really finding yourself at a loss for words, but this time...

"I don't know." You admitted. He laughed, turning away to rest an elbow on the bar again. You sputtered, putting a hand on his arm to bring his attention back. "But it just feels right. Okay? Think of it... we could rest comfortably for a long, long time if this ship holds what those guys were saying it did." 

He looked at your hand resting on his forearm, then glanced up at you. A slow blink, and he sighed. After a moment of deliberation, he nodded.

"Fine." 

You lit up, unable to hold back an excited smirk. His lips curved up into a smile as well, and he shoved your shoulder playfully, laughing at how you somehow always got your way.

"Against my better judgement, we will check it out." Before you could celebrate too long, he interrupted you. "But!" He said, still holding a playful tone. "If this ends badly..." He raised an eyebrow, turning towards you dramatically, sarcastically. You squinted at him, a shit-eating grin on your face. He lifted a hand to your chin, tilting your face upwards. 

"It's on you, kid." 

\------

You had just finished your small breakfast, sitting on the kitchen counter, sipping at your dull black coffee. As usual. It began to gnaw at you how similar this was becoming to your time on your crashed ship, stuck in the same, agonizing routine. Going no where. 

The weight of the quiet within the room was foreboding. Occasionally, you could hear the shuffle of Troopers passing by in the hallway, but as this was the Commander's private chambers.... not many dared venture this far. And if they did, they did not linger. 

Your curiosity had been fed into a full on flame, ever since getting a glimpse inside of Ren's inner most memories. You wanted to know how this happened.... how could you feel another's emotion? And why, for the love of the gods, were you finding yourself actually longing for him...?

Just as your cup was brought to your lips, the sliding of the entrance door nearly caused you to send the ceramic mug crashing to the floor. Instead, a small wave of coffee slipped over the brim, burning the side of your hand. Had the Troopers forgotten something when they dropped off food earlier? You cursed as you gathered your bearings, setting the cup beside you as you shifted to see who was entering. 

The thread within you woke from its slumber, cracking to life like a bullwhip, sending shivers of lightning through you, confirming who just walked in. 

Kylo towered in the doorway before you, dark and brooding as ever, but this time.... his shawl was ripped, torn and ragged, the bottom hem was singed and ashen. Blood trailed down his face, sticky and scarlet, dripping down into the corner of his mouth. A deep, cauterized wound was trailing from just above his right eyebrow, across his eye, across his cheek and disappeared behind his clothing after after searing down his neck. No doubt a saber wound... but who would have come close enough to land a strike on him? 

His eyes were wild, feral. Adrenaline had blown out his pupils- they were solid shadows of pure onyx. Ash and dirt was plastered to his once snow-pale skin, rips and tears in his clothing revealed more angry, bleeding wounds underneath . One hand was balled into a fist at his side, shivering. The other gripped his side, his leather gloves shiny with blood. 

"What happened?!" Your voice was barely a hushed whisper when you finally found it. He was pulsating with pain, you couldn't explain it- but you could feel his wounds.

And they were all over. 

He steadied himself, briefly breaking eye contact to wipe a sticky stream of blood away from his hooded eyes, strands of black hair stuck to the drying wound. He remained silent, seething, ash and dirt tarnishing his skin. 

"You need medical attention...," you tried again, hesitantly stepping towards him. It was hard to see Kylo as you had before the event just a few days prior, now that you had bore witness to his past memories. As much as you despised him- his aggressive, violent approaches left a bad taste in your mouth- but you could feel the rage, leftover adrenaline and pain pulsate from him like hot waves. And it bloomed empathy within you. 

With your quiet approach, he set his jaw, eyeing you.

"I am fine." Gritted teeth hissed his reply. You stopped just a few feet from him, the closest you'd ever willingly been to him, enough to smell the soot that coated his uniform. Even here, his height required him to look down at you. You trailed your eyes over his ragged, war-torn fabric. The slits in the cloth showed alabaster skin underneath, further confirming his humanness. You had almost forgotten. 

He eyed you curiously.

Why were you so....relieved to see him? Was this simply Stockholm Syndrome at its finest? It had to be- as there was no other explanation for what you did next. 

You finally stepped closer, leaving just an arms length distance between the two of you, reaching out cautiously with a shaking hand to pull the strands of hair from the seeping wound on his face. He flinched, wincing only briefly as your hand neared his face, glaring at you questioningly with furrowed brow.

As gently as you could, you brushed the blood-crusted hair out of his still-angry wound, your fingertips just skimming his sweat-covered complexion. He watched you intently the entire time. You were in such close contact you saw your own reflection in the dark abyss of his gaze. Just as you were pulling your hand back, his own hand snatched your wrist, gripping it tightly, as warning. 

You didn't move, your entire body was shivering so terribly he just had to feel it himself. Your mouth was cotton- what in the actual hell possessed you do touch him like this?? You were prepared for some sort of punishment, for even thinking of touching him. You were frozen under his grip, bringing your gaze to his, you saw hardness within his eyes, yet a glimmer of curiosity- your gesture had caught him off guard. From the proximity, you could smell ash, dust, and bitter-iron of blood.

"I can't..." His whisper was loud. Your wrist was burning with his dominant grip, and you nearly sputtered at his words. You couldn't describe this connection with words- it was as if he was within your chest, your breaths in time. The string was taut once more, shivering with the tug and pull towards the man in front of you. What was he saying?

"You can't what....?" Your voice, a whisper as well. His eyes darted between yours, holding you in place, pinning you to your spot. Your heart was near vibration at this point, pounding against your ribcage, threatening to break through right then and there. 

"I can't fight this any longer." The words knocked the breath out of your lungs as you realized the implication. Or, perhaps, because of what you were hoping those words would mean. 

His free hand, the one that had been grasping his side, reached up, slowly, to your neck. You winced, feeling the warmth and hot stickiness of his blood as it was smeared onto you. His large, leather glove snaked around your windpipe easily, engulfing your airway entirely. You didn't fear this touch as you once did... you realized quickly, you had, in fact, been craving it. 

"What are you doing to me?" His whisper was a deep baritone, a question posed mainly to himself. He looked you over, noticing your dilated pupils, your hitched breathing, the obvious wetness that was pooling between your shivering legs. The leather squeaked slightly as his grip tightened, lowering his gaze even with yours, inciting a quiet moan to escape your lips. 

This utterance was all he needed. His lips crashed into yours while the hand that had once vice-gripped your wrist snaked around your waist, guiding you backwards. It took you a moment to register what was happening, his tongue impatiently demanding entry. You quickly answered to his order, parting your lips to submit to his. 

He continued his push, forcing you backwards, his tongue scaling the backsides of your teeth, his leathered hand still gripped around your neck- a steady reminder of who was in control. Your feet stumbled over themselves, sending you shuffling, but his hand kept you upright and being shoved backwards ever more. You had no idea how your legs were even working- you were in state of complete hyper-arousal- every one of your senses were blown out out of proportion. The sickly sweet taste of his blood on his lips, the dirty dusty smell of ash, the ever growing heat between your legs... 

Suddenly the backs of your thighs hit a familiar surface- thick, black, satin sheets, and you were roughly shoved onto your back, disconnecting your lips from his. Your eyes flew open at your landing, struggling to gasp for air, as he stood, heaving in front of you. 

You began to sit up, reaching for him. your hands met purchase on his sleeve and you tugged, wanting to strip every inch of fabric from his flesh, begging to feel him bare-skinned against your own- 

A flick of his hand and you were sent backwards, flat on your back once more. Immobile. You took the hint. 

\-----Kylo's POV------

You were easily rendered immobile. Kylo didn't even have to apply that much Force, he knew you would not fight it. You wanted this. 

He felt it as soon as he boarded the ship. He felt your desire, your heat. And his legs took him past the med bay, leading him directly to his chambers where he knew you'd be. 

It was a stroke on his ego, seeing you trembling under his gaze on top of his sheets. Your taste still lingered on his tongue, and he wanted more. He wanted all of you- every inch. He lowered a knee onto the mattress, right beside your thigh, and slowly leaned down. He was drinking this in. 

You were giving yourself to him, completely. There was no fight within you, and Kylo was unsure what to make of this. But his blood was rushing so quickly it drowned these thoughts out. In a moment he lowered himself over you, biting back the wince from moving against the wound on his side. 

His pupils were nearly as big as yours, but his irises were too dark to tell otherwise. While one steady arm kept him hovering above you, leaning into you, the other found it's way up the side of your face, locking itself into a fistful of hair. He wanted to ruin you. He wanted to completely ruin you, to destroy you, to get this over with- to exorcise whatever hold and power you had held over him. He had to be done with this. After this, he'd be done. Your control over him, your incessant probing at his thoughts, would be gone...

These are the things he told himself as he crashed his lips back to yours, inhaling you- your scent, your quiet little moans that made him want to scream. With a growl, he bit your bottom lip, eliciting a sharp whimper from you as you arched your back up to him. 

He knew you were ready, but he wasn't. With his fist gripped in your hair, he broke away from your mouth, and turned your face sideways, pressing you into the mattress. The thought of how delicate you were, how easily it would be to snap your neck, to sling you to the side, to throw you out into space... it only caused angry shivers throughout his body. How dare something so... weak, have such power over him. He felt the red fury rage build up inside him, and he pushed it back into the deep recesses of his mind. 

He had hoped the killing he had spent the last few days partaking in would have sufficed, would have satiated his primal fury, but it didn't even scrape the surface. Slicing and burning through enemies, of those who resisted the First Order... still didn't soothe the ache that had formed within him. 

With your neck fully exposed, he brought his lips down to the delicate skin of your jugular vein, running his tongue from your collar bone to behind your ear. 

He could taste the wild excitement- your adrenaline through your skin, feel your rapid pulse. And it brought within him feelings he had suppressed for nearly all of his life. He shuttered, bringing teeth down to your skin. He nibbled, biting down as gently as he could, even though he wanted to draw blood. 

You were just so ..... delicate to him. 

This was foreign to him- to have something so weak at his fingertips, and to not destroy or kill it. It went against everything he was trained for. 

His hips were brought down to yours pressing you even further into the mattress. He was sure you felt his own excitement, how could you not? His length was rock hard, pulsating, begging to fill you. The wet heat that came from between your legs was practically screaming his name, while your mouth parted in jagged breaths, unable to contain your need.

Kylo had long since retracted the Force from you, and was pleased when you finally realized it

\-----Y/N POV----

A shaking hand found its way to Kylo's ebony hair, tangled and damp from sweat. You tugged at his scalp, less of a command and more of a plea. 

He brought his mouth back to yours, releasing your hair to grasp at your breasts, as you leaned into him. Your other hand grasped the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you. He was pressing you further and further into the mattress, and you needed to feel his skin. You didn't know where to begin- perhaps you were just so flustered, but you tried to peel at his frayed collar, tugging it in a desperation for him to remove it. He ignored your request, bringing a hand to your throat and kissing you even deeper, his forehead pressed into yours, the droplets of sweat from both bodies meshing together into one. 

Your eyelashes were nearly tangled into his, and the heat from his body was causing you to nearly boil over. Your hips bucked into his, telling him what you wanted- what you needed. A large, gloved hand tugged at the waistline of your pants, teasing you, leaving you absolutely dripping. The leathered digits made the slow, agonizing crawl lower, lower, lower, until they found your sex, barely feathering over it before thrusting one inside. Then two, stretching you further. This touch nearly set you on fire, lightning bolts racing through your veins. 

You gasped, exhaling a quiet, begging moan into his mouth. "Ben, please." 

As if you were a hot coal, he flew off of you, staggering as he stared wild eyed. The loss of his touch was ice cold, and you sat up in bed immediately. 

"I didn't-"

"Enough." He said, breathless, still continuing to take steps back. Tears pinched at your eyes- angry with yourself for ruining this. What possessed you to fucking say that name?! How could you be so careless.

He stood still for another moment, shoulders heaving as he steadied his breath, face flushed paler than before. Without a backwards glance, he turned and limped out of the room.


	22. Quadrant

Kylo's POV

\----------------------------

Kylo sat stiffly on the edge of a med cot, in a private room. A medical droid carefully tended to the remainder of his wounds, little surgical instruments busied with dressing on the wound on his face. It was the last injury to be addressed, and he shifted, feeling the taut bandage around his torso and upper shoulder. It was smothering.

His teeth had been set in a firm grit since the moment he walked- well, stormed in. 

Your voice was a bitter echo in his mind- 'Ben, please.' His hand twitched on his leg, wanting to take out his frustration. 

How dare you. 

Before he could dwell on it any further, the door slid open. 

Great. 

Hux stood, nearly tongue in cheek, eyes drinking in Kylo in his wounded state. He was nearly gleaming at the sure-to-scar gash along his pale face. 

"Well-" He chided before striding in, arms behind his back.

"I don't want to hear it." Kylo spit, not bothering to look at the smug redhead, although his thoughts were loud enough. Kylo made it a rule to only deal with Hux when absolutely necessary- and unfortunately that had been more often than not, lately. 

"Oh, don't be dramatic, Ren." He scoffed, pushing his luck as he strode closer to the machinery, tapping lightly on a monitor. "This is exactly what you get for heading into battle blindsided by-"

"Yes, thank you." Kylo grumbled sarcastically, cutting the general off. He pushed the med droid away from his face just as it finished its task, wounds still sore but he bit back a grimace. Hux didn't deserve the satisfaction. 

The redhead scoffed, hands still clasped behind his back. He looked just as insufferable as ever- sharp features and pristine uniform, it was almost nauseating. And now it was even worse, doting the tongue-in-cheek expression as he drank in Kylo's wounded pride. 

"And have you made a decision?" 

"On what." Kylo didn't bother to look up. 

"The girl's execution." 

At this, Kylo's eyes flicked up. 

"Have you set a date?" Hux's affect was flat, watching Kylo. Trying to read him. Interestingly enough- even though Hux's thoughts were often loud to Kylo, he had learned the skill of quieting them around the Commander. Probably in his best interest. 

And he was doing it now. 

"No." Kylo responded flatly, itching to leave Hux's presence. He had half a mind to leave-

"Commander, it would be wise not to get... distracted." 

"There is no distraction, General." At this, Kylo stood, turning to face Hux directly. The General didn't react, except for an exhale, before he spoke again. 

"I sense hesitation, Ren? " The General pushed knowingly, lips in a thin line. He shifted slightly, challenging. 

"There is no hesitation." Kylo snapped quickly, standing to face Hux directly, now. Even though his injuries were still sore and aching, he could barely feel them as his heart began to pound. He did not appreciate the snide remarks, and his patience was wearing thin. 

"Supreme Leader would be disappointed to know there is yet to be a date set to-"

"The Supreme Leader would be more disappointed with his General's lapse of judgement."

"I beg your pardon-"

"I am confident the Supreme Leader would be un-approving of his General taking time away from his post to make an attempt to fulfill personal needs with a prisoner- property of the First Order." 

At this, Hux understood Kylo's implied threat- referencing the night he found the General, pressing his wormy body against the prisoner in an empty conference room, with the intentions of having her. The girl was attractive, yes. But there is no excuse. Not when she was Kylo's. He cleared his throat. Kylo's prisoner. 

The general's jaw set, and he turned to leave, stiff bodied as ever. 

Kylo knew he had bought time from Hux's impertinent questioning and pressure. The execution date would soon have to be set. He could only deter Hux for so long. It was a miracle she has even been allowed to live this long- treason against the First Order demands immediate death. Her strange abilities had kept her head above water for now, but even Kylo knew it wouldn't be long until those powers dissipated. Along with the only thing between her and a swift death. 

'Ben, please.' Your words echoed in his head once more, and it burned, the strange pulling-feeling in his chest beginning to arise again. 

"We will arrive at Hoth at 0400." Hux's clipped tone brought Kylo out of his ruminating. Dark eyes flicked up to see the General stalling at the door, looking over his shoulder at him before exiting the room.

Kylo felt his jaw clench, almost involuntarily. The frustration was bubbling up. It was himself he was frustrated with. This prisoner was becoming a weakness. Just as he was ready to exorcise his unfamiliar desire for her, to fuck her and get it over with, she proved just how much power she had on him. And now, even Hux had begun to see this weakness.

'Ben, please.' 

It made him sick to his stomach. 

He had to do something about this. 

They would be arriving at Hoth soon, the icy, snowy planet where the First Order suspected a Resistance base had been established. He saw it as a chance to squash any suspicions of weakness that Hux or other officials had begun to assume due to the prisoner girl. He exhaled.

Kylo refused to return to his chambers. 

Instead, he found his legs directing him to the briefing room. He stood in front of the holographic map of Hoth that glowed sharp-red in front of him, reflecting off of hardened, tired eyes. 

It would be a long night. 

\------------------------------------

(Y/N)'s POV 

You cursed yourself for being so unthinking. How could his name slip out of your mouth so easily?! 

You closed your eyes, furious with yourself for ruining the moment. You wanted him. And your careless tongue sent him running from you. You couldn't blame him. And as the evening continued on, you didn't blame him for not returning to his chambers. You, in fact, blamed yourself. 

Everything had begun to feel as if you were in limbo, cycling through a boring routine until your mysterious powers faded away. 

\---

Morning came early, signified by the sound of Troopers outside the door in the hallways. 

You had been awake for quite a while, sleep did not come easy last night, and were already up by the time the front door opened. 

You had expected another tray of bland food, a bitter cup of coffee- 

...but instead, the Trooper stood in the doorway empty handed. 

"Follow me." 

You stalled. You hadn't left this room in what felt like eons. You were sure you had misheard him...

"The Commander will not tolerate lateness." The white-helmet chided, shifting impatiently. It took a moment to register what he was saying, and your heart started to race. 

Is this it? Has the execution date come? 

You felt a wave of cold sweat fall over you, and you somehow brought your legs to work, slowly bringing you to the side of the Trooper. You stepped into the hallway, the door sliding closed behind the two of you. 

Before you had a chance to question, the Trooper nodded you forward. You hesitated, but began walking in the direction he implied. 

"Where are we going..." You asked, near begging for an explanation. Deep down, you knew whatever this was about, was not good. The Trooper did not respond, but instead took an armored shoulder to press you further on. 

"Can you tell me what-"

"Silence." The muffled voice came from the white helmet, impatient. You bit the inside of your mouth. 

The halls were freezing, but you weren't sure if it was from the temperature or your fear. You hadn't expected this to happen so soon- last time you checked, your powers were still there. But perhaps your slip of the tongue, calling him Ben... perhaps that was enough expedite your execution. 

As you were escorted further and further away from the Commander's Chambers, you found yourself overwhelmed by the increased activity in the hallways. Squads of Troopers shuffled past groups of officials, discussing some sort of First Order matter. A few who passed sent you sharp glares, near scoffing at your unofficial attire and being escorted. Your face flushed, but you kept your head high, ignoring them. 

Before you could think more on it, the Trooper brought a hand to firmly direct you to another hallway, breaking off from the main areas. Your heart sped up, feeling that you were close to your destination. 

How odd, that they'd put an execution room so close to main hallways... 

The Trooper stopped, clearing his throat to signal to you that you were, in fact... here. 

You stilled, feeling the whirr of the thread within your chest quiver. The Trooper brought a hand to a digital pad, opening the door you were facing. You had expected a dungeon of sorts, dark, grimy, full of chains and different instruments of death and torture. 

But instead, was a pristine conference room. 

The redheaded General stood with his back to you, facing out a window, overlooking the maintenance of various ships and other mechanics below. And in his ever shadowy form, Kylo Ren sat at the conference table, not bothering to look up and keeping his form turned away from you. 

The Trooper firmly pressed you forward, and just as you stepped through the door frame, it slid with a finality behind you. Just as it closed, the General half turned to glare at you, barely acknowledging you. Kylo stood, bringing his own hands behind his back, turning still with his back to you.

"As I was saying," Hux retorted snidely, turning to Kylo, who looked like he couldn't be more uninterested in his conversation. "There are four points of interest in this area, and squadrons will be assigned to each to clear the area, ensuring..."

You could barely hear Hux as he continued to drone on about whatever it was he was explaining. Your focus was intent on Kylo. He stood, seemingly tolerant of Hux's vapid talking, completely ignoring both the General's presence... and yours. He slowly paced over to the wide windowed view, overlooking the busied workers below, preparing his fleet. His shoulders doubled the with of Hux's, who stood a safe distance from him. It felt as if he was refusing to acknowledge you, but you knew he knew you were here. 

His coldness hurt you, but it was hard to focus on this. Instead, you questioned what the hell you were doing here. Is this standard procedure before an execution?

"...within the hour. The northern quadrant is of great interest, Commander, therefore you will be deploying..."

The thread within you felt lethargic. The feeling was foreign. Your heart still raced, still unsure of what was happening. Why were you brought here? It almost felt like a dream- the only reason you felt it couldn't be a dream was that Hux had briefly acknowledged you when you first entered. The General's icy glare made you just as uneasy as the first time you made eye contact with him, and it was even worse after your... previous encounter with him. 

"Are there any questions?" Hux asked, chin raised. The question was directed to Kylo, but when the Commander didn't respond, his eyes flicked over to you, addressing you for the second time. You wanted to melt into the wall behind you. 

"I don't-" Just as you began, Kylo turned to face you. The words fell dead on your tongue as you saw his face, a bandaged, angry scar running from above his eyebrow, across his cheek, down his neck and continuing past his collared uniform. His eyes met yours, cold and dark as ever. It was as if he were looking straight through you. 

"Why am I here?" You finally breathed. Although your question was directed at Kylo, Hux took the liberty to answer, stepping in your line of view, blocking your sight of the Commander.

"You are disposable to The First Order. Seeing as this is a potentially dangerous mission, it is good to have... disposable bodies." He stated, matter of factly, "However, it seems your...", his nose scrunched, "...abilities, may also serve useful on this mission. You will be accompanying Ren to the Northern Quadrant."


	23. Ice

You had quickly been escorted from the conference room- so quickly, you had barely had a chance to sneak a glance at the Commander before you left. He was turned from you, so you were unable to read his expression. 

Now you were seated on a small bench in a hallway you had yet to visit prior. You assumed it was near the loading dock. You were dressed in a new outfit- more fitting for an icy planet. Thick fabric and insulation designed for freezing temperatures. A fur-lined hood, snow terrain lace-up boots. It was, of course, in strict First Order fashion-all black. 

You glanced over to the Trooper standing guard, casually stationed against the wall. Passerby's might not have noticed you were being guarded- he was far enough away from you to give the illusion you were there of your own volition. 

You shifted, starting to feel overly warm in your gear, and the Trooper turned to you quickly. Reminding you that you were, in fact, carefully being watched. You nearly rolled your eyes. 

Hux's instructions were clear. This could potentially be a dangerous mission. Why not utilize having someone go that they could afford to lose? You glanced down at your feet. Your heartbeat spiked slightly, thinking about Kylo standing in the conference room. 

Why did he refuse to look at you? You bit the inside of your cheek- you knew why he didn't want to look at you. And you didn't blame him. 'Please, Ben.' The words haunted you. 

The sound of several armored footfalls made you look up, glancing down the hallway. 

And of course, there was Kylo, followed closely by a group of soldiers. His helmet was on, silver accents catching in the florescent lighting. His cowl flowed behind his broad strides as he neared, towering over the Troopers at his sides and back. You kept your gaze on his- or where you assumed it would be, the visor hid all means of his expression. His uniform seemed the same, and just as he neared, you felt your anxiety rise, anticipating his barking of orders to you, or harsh demands-

.... but instead he strode right past you, not even bothering to glance your way. He continued right past you as if you weren't even there. 

You nearly scolded yourself, bringing your head down and feeling your cheeks heat with color of embarrassment. He didn't just make you feel small- he made you feel nonexistent. 

Your Trooper stood in front of you, and brought you out of your thoughts. He motioned for you to get up, and you followed without questioning . You prayed no one had noticed the warmth in your face, glancing sideways at the Trooper assigned to your guard as he escorted you down the hallway. Was this Kylo's idea of punishment? The silent treatment? Refusing to acknowledge you exist?

You nearly shook the thought from your head. The connection you had with Kylo- after bearing witness to his past memories- couldn't have been one sided. How was he so easily ignoring that?

You reached the loading dock and your stomach churned seeing who stood at the end, even though you knew to expect it. His back was to you, of course, and he was flanked by two upper ranking stormtroopers. You wanted to call out- to speak to the Commander. To get an idea of where he stood with things... but before you could think further on it, Hux intercepted your path just before you reached even a stride from the group. You nearly crashed into his chest, and quickly took a step back. 

"I trust-"his cold gaze bore into you intently as he spoke in a hushed tone, "-that there will be absolutely no transgressions on this expedition." His tone was clipped, threatening. His jaw was set, hands tightly clasped behind his back, eyes not leaving yours. You nodded, hoping this response would suffice. This was a direct threat, and you knew it. You weren't sure exactly how he thought you would even be able to defy their orders on this mission- the planet was desolate, full of ice and snow. You'd die of hypothermia if you decided to attempt an escape. 

He glanced up and down before breathing another threat, enunciating nearly every word. "This was not my decision- letting you attend this mission. Do not take this as an opportunity to defy The First Order, or you shall find your execution date can easily be expedited." You averted your eyes, hearing him loud and clear. He seemed pleased by your response, as he quickly straightened his posture and turned to stand beside the Commander, the two men facing the exit. 

The Trooper that escorted you thus far remained at your side, keeping you a few strides distance from the crew in front of you. You glanced at Kylo, who remained with his back to you, not acknowledging your presence whatsoever. 

A silent order was given, and the bay doors begun to open. Immediately, icy temps washed over the inner atmosphere of the entry way. It bit your cheeks as if the cold were a physical being, bringing a mist to your eyes. Even through your layered clothing, you felt the bite of the frozen landscape that just beyond the descending ramp. You had never in your life seen such amounts of snow- it was almost overwhelming. 

Hux turned to Kylo, his lips moving but his voice inaudible to you at this distance. Kylo's response was a curt nod, before exiting the ship, two upper ranks following his lead. The Trooper beside you nudged you forward, silently instructing that it was your turn to exit. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain yourself as you willed your feet to follow. You glanced at Hux as you passed, as was met with a near scowl. He turned, hands behind him, and exited the area. 

Your feet hit the top of the ramp, and you quickly found yourself jogging to catch up to the Commander. The dark attire he donned was complete contrast to the surrounding environment, cowl flicking around him in the icy air as he begun to wade into the ankle-deep, blindingly-white snow. The environment was thankfully calm. Cold, but calm. You had half expected to be walking into a full on blizzard, but was thankfully met instead with thick snow mounds instead. It was near dawn, and the faint light glistened off the ice crystals like diamonds. The depth of snow made it difficult to keep up as you continued to trail behind them. You found yourself stepping into Kylo's large footprints to make the trek easier. 

The crew was suddenly stopped in front of you, apparently discussing something. It would be an understatement to say you still didn't feel a part of this 'group,' and maintained a safe distance. Just as you caught up, they continued on, doubling your pace. 

You nearly rolled your eyes. 

What was the purpose of your attendance here? You got the message loud and clear, from Hux- you were 'expendable' and might come in handy. But he also stated that this wasn't his decision- to allow you to join. So who would have had the power to undermine the General's say? The answer was rhetorical. 

Commander Ren. 

You glanced up, tucking your hands deeper into your pockets as you continued on, near hopping from footstep to footstep. Even in ankle deep snow, he maintained a walk of confidence. He exuded power, control. Even in this icy, foreboding landscape, he oozed authority and dominion. It seemed that if he so chose, he could command even the harsh elements to bend to his will.

Why did he decide you were to come on this mission? Perhaps he found it would be satisfying to watch you freeze to death out here, to suffer a fitting punishment for speaking a name long dead to him. You felt your face tightening from the bitter cold, nose beginning to drip like a faucet. But still you hiked on, simply trying to keep up before you freeze solid.

It wasn't soon before the unit stopped ahead of you on top of a small hill, divulging in some sort of conversation you were too far away to hear. They were looking over into the apparent valley that lay before them, and you were hoping to the gods this meant the destination wasn't far. Your feet were near frozen and completely numb at this point- treading onward by will alone. You caught up to them in time to hear the tail end of the conversation, but it didn't really register- you were too cold to think correctly.

Ahead of you, at the base of a valley, lay what appeared to be a base of some sort, carved into the bottom of a shelf of ice. You could see the giant icicles from here, hanging like angry fangs over the darkened mouth. You didn't see how anything could survive out here, much less set up a camp or base. 

The two troopers nodded to Kylo, before turning to continue down the hill. The Commander remained where he stood, overlooking the two soldiers hiking down the hill. You stilled, realizing it was now the two of you. You were still a few strides from him, and was unsure of what to do. The thread within your chest began buzzing, almost creating a core of warmth within you. 

He didn't bother to look back at you. 

You took a deep inhale, and tried to muster up what bravery you could. Perhaps it was the cold inhibiting your decision making process, but you found yourself hiking right up next to him, looking out over the valley as well. The reflection of the snow glistened on his helmet's silvery accents, and his giant form guarded you from the chill wind.

The silence was heavy, only the sound of breathing passing between the two of you. 

He still wasn't acknowledging you. You decided to speak.

"I'm sorry." It fell heavy from your lips, slightly slurred as your mouth was numb as well. Along with the rest of your freezing body. He didn't respond. The thread continued its vibration, fluttering. 

"I didn't mean to... I don't know. I'm just sorry." You pressed further, shaking your head. The cold air made it difficult to speak- you felt you were stumbling over your words. You looked up to see he was still facing forward.

You set your jaw, turning to face the valley once more. The troopers had just reached the mouth of the entrance, blasters raised and at the ready as they begun to clear the area. The wind began to pick up, and you found yourself beginning to shiver.

"We will be out of the elements soon." Kylo's voice was low, the vocoder crackling as it struggled to pick it up. You glanced back up at him, but again couldn't read his expression. You were growing too cold to think too much on it, and decided not to respond. 

The two soldiers soon emerged again, giving a signal that it was all clear. 

Kylo strode down the hill, and you stalled before following behind. The snow kicked up from both of your footfalls created tiny little avalanches, tiny balls of ice and snow rolling down, racing to the bottom. You stole a glance at him once more, but his fists were clenched at his side and his pace was tenfold of yours. 

The mouth of the cave, now that you were closer, actually was a man-made entryway. It was obviously an abandoned structure. The metal archway was iced over, harsh nature taking over the constructed facility. Upon entering, the colder winds were unable to touch you, and you shuttered. The shelter here wasn't much, but at least it protected you from the wind and snow. The floor was metal, and somewhat slick due to the icy conditions. Every footfall was echoed in the large chamber. No snow had made its way in, aside from the beginning of the entrance. 

The sound of dripping water echoed through out, barely audible from the ever-growing wind just outside. You pulled your hood closer around you as you willed your teeth to stop chattering. 

Kylo turned to the soldiers, who were standing near the back of the cavernous area. 

"Any sign of habitation?" The modified voice demanded, and the two troopers stood at attention. 

"Not currently, sir. We have cleared the areas we were able to reach." One reported quickly.

"Able to reach?" Kylo asked sharply, voice hinting at frustration. You could tell this was not the answer he was looking for. 

"Sir, the doors are frozen solid farther inward. We only have access to two main areas."

Kylo paused, turning slightly to survey the area. The silence was thick, aside from the echoey sounds of water dripping. You kept shuttering, dreading the hike back to the ship. 

"Report back to Hux- I want him to see this for himself." Kylo suddenly ordered, motioning towards the troopers. "Tell him his Commander greatly appreciates this waste of time." They stilled at his annoyed tone, shifting their feet.

"Sir, I-"

"That command did not require a response. Report back to the ship. Now." Kylo raised his voice, rolling his shoulders as his fist tightened. The soldiers knew better than to argue, and began to quickly walk past. 

You turned to follow, dreading going back out into the-

"You will remain here." Kylo's voice was sharp, and obviously directed at you. The troopers briefly glanced backwards at you, but quickly continued to exit the facility. You were chilled to the bone, and couldn't really think straight- did you simply imagine him speaking to you?

You turned to face him, and he was, in fact, speaking towards you. The cold-faced helmet was staring right at you. Without a moment to spare, he turned, walking towards the open hallway at the back. 

You followed him without question, but couldn't help but be leery. What did he want with you? The troopers reported no sign of anyone being in this abandoned place, why weren't they returning to the ship as well?

You slipped through the smaller doorway behind him, and found yourself in a smaller room. A command desk, a few pieces of broken furniture, and abandoned tech screens. Your scavenger mind was alight- the materials in this place were prime for selling. It seemed the facility had been left in a hurry- it almost felt frozen in time. It was obviously an old Rebel base, long forgotten and abandoned. Why would this have interested the First Order? This room was slightly warmer than the one you were previously in, and you were more than appreciative.

Your eyes fell upon Kylo, his back to you, standing near a large, inactive command center station. Just as you began to ask what was the purpose of this, your words fell when you realized his shoulders were heaving. 

With rage. 

The vocoder was rasping and cracking with his every angry exhale. You were suddenly very aware just how alone you were with the Commander, and your heart began to pound. 

"Kylo-"

His hand was already twitching over the hilt of his lightsaber, and with shaking fingers he quickly brought it to life at his side. The angry hum of the blade reverberated through the small room, and sent a deadly glow of scarlet on the surrounding stations. 

He lurched forward, raising his weapon only to bring it down heavy, slicing through the command center in front of him easily. The edges of the split center glowed orange, sliced by the plasma blade. He lunged again, and his blade fell another station to his right, just to twist and slice through a control station wall on his left. He pounded the blade over and over again into the smoking, now-destroyed screens. He was beyond reasoning...

You flinched at his every attack, slowly stepping backwards until you were backed out of the room. Even after leaving the control room, you could hear his heavy, aggressive tantrum echoing throughout. He didn't even notice you had left as he continued to rage.

You weren't completely sure why he was so fucking pissed... you could only assume he was hoping this abandoned post was anything but abandoned. It appeared the Resistance was several steps ahead, yet again just out of his grasp.

You pulled your hood closer around you as you began to pace to the entrance, hoping to see the arrival of the ship so you could get out of this damned frozen land. The sounds of Kylo's rage was beginning to fade out the farther away you ventured. An exhale escaped you as you looked out the mouth of the entrance. You weren't sure if it were a good thing, but you had stopped shivering. 

The cool white landscape that lay outside the entrance was deceivingly peaceful, directly contrasted to Kylo's rage a few strides inside. You glanced at the top of the ridge line, seeing that the growing wind had long erased your footprints. You were just about to begin to worry, hoping that the troopers would be able to accurately locate the building with the snow covering the tracks, when a chunk of ice crumbled to the floor to your left, shattering the silence.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, realizing it was an icicle that had fallen. You sighed, rubbing the sides of your arms for warmth, and turned to -

A gloved hand was quickly placed over your mouth from behind, a dagger to your throat just beneath your chin. You brought both hands up to grasp at the arm that pinned you to a padded chest. The blade pressed into your throat in warning, and you halted your struggle. 

"Do. Not. Make. A fucking sound." The breath was hot, slightly muffled and right next to your ear. Even through the layers of clothing, the threat was clear and confirmed this was not Kylo. In fact, you didn't recognize the voice whatsoever, and your panic increased, chest heaving. The thread within your chest was trembling, and you squeezed your eyes shut.


	24. Hold

The cold blade of the dagger stayed firm on your throat. 

"Please..." you breathed, and the form jerked you backwards roughly. 

"I said don't fucking speak." The hushed voice was obviously masculine, and irritated. You swallowed, feeling your throat graze the sharp edge. You prayed Kylo had heard, or at least sensed this man's presence in the abandoned facility. But with his rage destroying the back room, you doubted it. 

"Now..." A stubbled cheek nestled in close to your ear once more, scraping against your jawline like sandpaper, "...we are going to be nice and quiet, so no one gets hurt. Nod if you understand." The voice was tinged with an unhinged focus. You swallowed again, the blade nicking your throat as you gave in with a slow nod. 

"Good." The voice was low as he began to guide you backwards, slowly. Your eyes darted to the room you had left Kylo in, praying he would emerge at any second. 

But he didn't. 

You were backed into room you hadn't first noticed upon entry. You were assuming that this was the second room the troopers had said they had cleared. Your jaw was set, trying to avoid the sharp edge of the weapon as you were brought into the room, the door still open as you were continued to the center. The room was dark- electricity and power had long left this place. Similar to the room you were just in, it was obvious this was an abandoned post as well. 

And the fucking troopers dared to say they had cleared this facility?!

A second figure brushed past you, headed towards the door. They leaned out, looking left and right. Even in the light outside of this room, you couldn't make out a face. Layers of thick clothing hid almost all features, but you could tell from the size and stature that this was a male as well. He reached out, pulling the door closed slowly, maintaining as much quietness as he could, and upon closing, latched it quickly from the inside. 

Oh my fucking gods, they're going to kill me.... 

In doing so, the room was even darker than before. The blade was pressing harder now, and you instinctively reached both hands up, trying to pry at the forearm of the assailant. This only angered him further, and you were pulled tighter into his chest. 

"Ah, ah, none of that. Don't make this difficult." The voice growled behind you, and you released your hands, palms up in surrender. 

"Let me go." You weakly demanded through gritted teeth. You were absolutely terrified- shivering uncontrollably. If he hadn't of been holding you up your knees would have given out from pure fear. 

"You are in no position to be making demands." The second figure spoke now, and as your eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting, he removed his hood. Dark stubble fell across a square jaw, but you again didn't recognize them. Before you could think on it further, the blade was removed from your throat and you were shoved to the floor, landing hard on the ice cold ground. 

The thick layers of clothes made it hard, but you struggled to your feet, only to be met with the same dagger pointed right at the dip between your clavicles, right at your throat. You stumbled back, but the dagger followed you, never leaving your skin. Your eyes grew wide, facing this man now. 

Dark brown attire, thick layers of winter clothes hid his form, but he was large. Too large to fight off- and with two in the room, there was no chance. Snow goggles were lifted to rest on his forehead. The fur lined hood hid most of his face, but you didn't need to see his expression to sense his seriousness. 

You would be killed without question, here. 

"Please..." Your arms were raised above your shoulders in submission, "you're making a mistake." 

"Uh, yeah no, I don't think we are." The second male spoke, pacing from your side to your frontal view, standing near the armed man. This man was a bit smaller than the one with the knife to your throat, but still a formidable size to try and fight off. He removed his own fur lined hood, revealing similar goggles as well as a scarf that still covered his nose and mouth. "Now, if you just cooperate, no one will get seriously hurt."

"I didn't-"

"Lower. Your. Voice." The man wielding the dagger took a step forward, pressing the tip into your throat, and you winced. 

"Well won't you look at that, you were right-" The smaller figure examined, beady eyes trailing up and down your form before nodding to his partner. You flinched as he brought a gloved hand to grab at your heavy jacket, running a thumb over the red embroidered insignia. "A First Order high rank? At our mercy? What more could we ask for?"

Oh gods.... they think I'm an officer?! The symbol on your jacket led them to believe you were of The First Order, and you scrambled to correct them- to explain that you were anything but. 

"You're making a mistake, I'm-" 

"Enough." 

"No, you don't understand, I'm not-"

The dagger was pressed even further, and you found yourself against a wall. You felt the delicate skin easily tear, a hot rivulet of blood beginning to trickle down into the layers of clothing on your chest. 

"I said, enough." The smaller male stepped closer, nearly touching your chest. He quickly brought a hand up, and you winced, expecting him to strike you. But instead, your hood was yanked down, exposing your head and face entirely. 

"And a pretty one, at that..." His head tilted, looking you over. 

You blinked hard and the tears you had been fighting cascaded down your cheeks.

"Now. What shall we do while we wait for that crew of yours to come back, hm?" He brought his gloved hand to your cheeks, wiping your tears as they feel. You shot a glare at him, and the other male scoffed. 

Hux's words echoed in your head... 'you are disposable.' Is this what he meant? 

"They won't give you anything." You spit, glancing down at the man's hand which held the weapon. You were pushing your luck here, but you were trying to bide your time. Surely Kylo would have noticed your absence by now...

"I doubt that." The smaller one's scarf mouth covering shifted, hinting at a devilish smirk as he half ignored you. He grabbed at the zipper close to your throat, and you jerked back, still finding yourself pinned to the wall.

"Keep those fucking hands up. We must check for weapons." The man snapped, emotionless eyes staring down at you. You huffed, exhaling shakily. His gloved hand pulled down on the zipper, exposing part of your bloodied chest and the layers of dark clothes under neath. 

"I'm a prisoner of The First Order- not an officer." You blurted out quickly and he stopped, eyes flicking up to pin you. "There is no leverage here." 

"A prisoner, huh?" He scoffed, sending a smirk to the larger man, who had a similar reaction. They weren't buying it. "I've never heard of the First Order giving prisoners official uniforms? Or permitting them to attend missions?" 

Before you could respond, he snapped. "Turn around." He commanded, motioning to you with a gloved hand. You halted, glancing between the two. "I said, turn the fuck around." He quickly grew impatient, and grabbed your shoulders, turning you himself to pin you against the wall. He kept a hand on the nape of your neck, pressing your face into the wall as he positioned himself behind you. You resisted, trying to push off of the wall, but he only pressed into you further. 

"Have you forgotten who is in charge here?" He scoffed, gritting his teeth. The other man let out a light chuckle, and your face burned. "I knew First Order was stupid, but not this daft." 

Kylo, please.... surely to the heavens you have noticed....

"Search her." The order was given, and the larger man started padding you down, checking for any potential weapons. You squeezed your eyes shut, begging the gods to help you. Gloved hands seemed somewhat satisfied after feeling down every curve you had through the thick layers, and released you. You remembered how you had thrown Kylo and Hux back that day in the training room... you focused inward, inhaling deep, trying to focus in and do the same to these-

Your hands were brought behind your back roughly, breaking your concentration, and your wrists began to be bound with tight wire. You tried to shake him off, but were pressed farther into the wall with strong forearms. You swallowed hard as you were subdued even more, tears stinging your frozen cheeks. Closing your eyes, you tried to reach out to Kylo, screaming to him through your mind.

'PLEASE HELP!'

"If you cooperate, this will be much easier." The man said in a whisper, leaning into your cheek with his for effect, reminding you that you were far outmatched as he continued to fasten the ligature. 

The three of you suddenly froze, hearing the steady hum of a ship making land began to vibrate the facility. You took this moment to dart sideways, making a break for the door. The larger man grabbed at you, but your slick jacket slipped right out of his grasp. Just as you were about to barrel through the door, the smaller man lunged at you, catching you just at the waist, tackling you to the ground. 

With your hands tied, you were unable to catch yourself- your face smacked hard into the ground. You saw stars, vision going black for a moment. Your chin had hit the frozen floor hard, as well as your nose, and immediately figured you had completely broken your face. A hiss left your lips as you were roughly lifted up by a harsh grip on your shoulder- you didn't even fight it. You tilted your head up, feeling the hot stickiness of blood draining from your nose like water. Your vision was spinning, and your head grew too heavy to hold up. With a groan you let your face fall downward. The scarlet liquid flowed out of your nose and over your lips, dribbling down your chin. It spattered on the floor at your feet like raindrops, and you staggered. 

The harsh grip steadied you, and you didn't bother fighting anymore. Your face was pounding with each heavy heartbeat as you were shoved forward towards the door you had been running too.

Dizziness took over you, and you had nearly forgotten where you were. The door opened by some account- you assumed whoever wasn't holding you firm had opened it, and you were shoved outside. 

Just as you stepped outside of the threshold, a gloved hand gripped the top of your scalp, yanking your head backwards to expose your blood-covered neck. Faintly you could feel the dagger pressed firm against your neck flesh once again, and you sputtered. You gathered the presence of others in the room, and your vision steadied enough to see the small crowd in front of you. 

\----------------

KYLO's POV

Another angry swipe of the blade fell another wall of monitors inside of the abandoned post room. He was furious. The fucking waste of time this mission had become felt like a personal insult to Kylo. 

He roared, bringing the searing saber in an upwards strike that just kissed the low ceiling. He continued his tantrum, wanting to destroy the entirety of this whole fucking place. 

The saber bit through another set of wiring, sending a few dead sparks into the air, fragments shattering past his helmet. You had tried apologizing. How dare you think that a brief apology is able to undo blatant defiance. Your defiance of who he is. Ben is dead.

How dare you... He was absolutely seething. 

Strong arms fell another section of the now half-in-debris room. He brought a leg up to kick in a glass monitor, sending broken shards flying. With a sharp twist, he flipped a command desk, sending it sideways only to bring the blade down to split it in half. 

Of course the fucking base was abandoned- he had tried to tell Hux this prior. But instead of fight the General on this, he allowed it- in order to fucking prove you were not becoming a weakness. And just as he had thought- his mother and her faithful followers had successfully predicted their next move. Kylo felt like he was on a wild goose chase, wasting precious time and energy into-

'PLEASE HELP!' 

His veins turned to ice. 

You called to him. 

He froze, turning to look behind him, the saber still hissing and spitting at his side. He hadn't even noticed you had left-

Without a moment's hesitation he darted out of the room, pushing himself off of the doorframe as leverage as he made his way into the-

Hux stood at the mouth of the entrance, a squadron of soldiers surrounding him, facing two men with their blasters raised and at the ready.

And there you were- face was bloodied, droplets of scarlet dripping out of your nose and down your jacket. A glint of metal showed a dagger poised at your throat, threatening to end you. The two men steadied you, grasping at your upper arms and wielding now two deadly promises to your neck. Each man's gloved hand held a sharp dagger to you, daring any of the First Order to make a move.

He was but ten strides from them when-

"That's close enough!" One of the men called out, turning to look at Kylo's swift approach. The knife was pressed more into your neck and Kylo halted. He glanced to Hux, who was looking down his nose, eyes wide. Your head was being held back by the grip of the larger of the two men, a tight hand grabbing at your scalp. 

"You will release her immediately, before I implode both of your brains from the inside." Kylo's voice was shaking in rage, so much that even the typically emotionless vocoder translated his fury. 

The men didn't falter. 

"Go ahead- we'll slice her before that happens."

You groaned with their rough handling, weakly trying to shrug them off. 

Kylo's fist tightened around the hilt of the lightsaber, which seemed to be eager itself to split these two fuckers like a hot knife through butter. With the daggers so close to you, he hesitated on chancing it. Before he could react, Hux broke the silence.

"This little show is quite enough. You are ill-advised to assume the two of you can bargain with The First Order." His voice was even, but tinged with an annoyance only known to the red head. The Troopers around him remained on target. Kylo was near alight with fury and adrenaline- he could not let this happen.

The blood continued to dribble down your swelling face and the thread within Kylo's chest was vibrating so quickly it felt as if it was ripping in strong wind. Your face had twisted into a grimace as you struggled against their hold once more. 

"You have something of ours," The smaller of the men countered as he tilted your head back even more, looking at your bloodied face, "and it looks like we have something of yours." 

"Is that so?" Hux scoffed, a sneer coming over his lips. "Congratulations- you have one of our finest female prisoners." 

The men faltered, glancing at one another. 

"You're lying!" The larger one barked. 

"You're bluffing- she's in Official uniform!" the smaller one countered, shaking your shoulder. Your head lolled, and it looked like you were moments from losing consciousness. Kylo was going to rip him limb from limb for touching you like this- a quick death was not in these men's cards any longer. As soon as he could get you safely out of their grasp he would-

"We will fucking kill her- do not try us!" The daggers were pressed harder into your neck, for affect, and Kylo saw the skin tearing at the sharp edge. He lunged forward, his saber flicking and hissing, ready to kill, but stopped as the men rotated to face him.

"Perhaps you really are as simple-minded as you look." Hux scoffed, glancing at Kylo before turning to face his ready-to-kill troops. "On my command-"

"No." Kylo ordered, undermining Hux. The General's head snapped to the side at Kylo's counter. 

"Commander, I advise you to not-"

"What is it you want?" Kylo seethed, ignoring the General as he addressed the two men. The two strangers exchanged a quick glance before turning back to the Commander.

"The Artifact. We were hired to-" The larger man began to explain. 

"Oh you cannot be serious. Commander, I highly encourage you not to entertain this absurd-" Hux interrupted, his tone growing more and more impatient. A strand of hair fell from his usually strict hair as his face begun to turn red. 

"Silence. What were you hired to do?" Kylo continued, slowing striding forward. 

"We were hired to retrieve it. Went through a fucking load of trouble to find it, only to have some scavenger fucking steal it. Shot down their ships, and lost it. And word has it, this First Order ship now houses it." The smaller male was seething, nearly spitting at every word. 

"Then give it to them." Kylo turned, addressing the squadron as he retracted his searing blade. 

"Commander Ren, I absolutely will not-" Hux's eyes were near popping out of his head in disbelief as he spoke. 

"I said, give it to them. Retrieve it- that is an order." Kylo snapped his helmet to a Trooper, who hurriedly returned to the ship, wincing under the angry gaze of Hux. Your head bobbed, but turned in Kylo's direction, eyes fluttering. His heart nearly beat out of his chest. He had no idea how he was keeping his murderous rage under his skin. He maintained an eye on you at all times, gritting teeth so hard at the sight of your blood that he was sure his teeth would shatter.

The next few moments were agonizing until the trooper returned, a velvet-encased silvery box in hand. The two men glanced between Hux and Kylo, trying to figure out where the threat would come from.

The Trooper returned, passing an absolutely fuming Hux, face red as ever. He stomped his foot as he bellowed, "Ren, I command you to-" 

At this, Kylo's hand struck out in a force grip, cutting off the Generals airway before shoving him backwards. He landed hard, on his ass, hair falling into his face as he gasped for air. The troopers shuffled to get out of his way. 

The Trooper placed the silvery box on the ground, directly between the triangular position, an equal distance between Kylo, Hux, and the men and you. 

"There." Kylo retorted, trying to maintain a sense of calm. He was shivering in anger beneath his uniform, fingers twitching on the hilt of his saber. "Now release her."

The smaller man motioned to the larger one, who, with great hesitation, released his grip and the dagger from you and carefully made his way to the box in the center. He snatched it, rushing back to stand behind you.

He opened the lid, and the two men quickly glanced inside and exchanged a glance. Kylo knew it wasn't a farce- the Artifact, was, indeed in the box. This was not a bluff. The smaller man nodded to Kylo, and slowly began guiding you backwards, still using your body as a shield. Kylo stepped forward.

"Release her. Now." Kylo demanded, voice beginning to splinter through the vocoder. 

"Not until we are out of firing range." The smaller man snapped, glaring at the Commander. 

The two men continued backward, until they reached the doorway they had entered from. As they did, they removed the daggers from your throat completely, and shoved you forward. You landed hard on your knees, head still lulling to you chest as you somehow managed to not fall forward.

This was the split second Kylo was waiting for. 

With a quick motion from his clenched fist, the two men suddenly fell sideways, falling backwards into the doorway, necks twisted unnaturally at a 90 degree angle, nearly ripping flesh from the force. The crunch of their vertebrae echoed throughout the chamber, as did the uneasy shuffling of armored troops. 

The quick death was not the satisfaction Kylo wanted. He envisioned burning them from the inside out, imploding vital organs, melting their brains until their bodies turned to mush- but he couldn't dwell on it any longer. In an instant he was upon you. Your face... with all of the blood, he was unsure exactly where all you were bleeding from. You were conscious, but barely. And not for long. Your hands were still tied behind your back, and he quickly tore the wire from your limp wrists. Scooping you up into his arms, knocking the shattered artifact box to the side, he immediately headed for the entry ramp of his ship. 

Kylo shoved past the crew of troopers and Hux, who had just regained his footing, before shouting the order.

"Prepare for deport."


End file.
